Gambling Day
by The Devil Wears Westwood
Summary: COMPLETE! He could not help himself when it came to the roll of the dice, the deep thought that came into thinking up the perfect bet, the satisfaction of having the perfect line up to win but it never ended there..Watson/OC Holmes/OC.
1. Chapter 1

**AN: **Short one shot. Most likely out of character, but it is my first Sherlock Holmes fic. Watson/OC.

Gambling Day

Once again, he had a full purse and the urge was one that he could not resist. He confidently walked down, in a well made out gentlemen manner. Not that gambling was one that true gentlemen would normal include themselves in, Watson figured, but one that had always been of much interest to him. He could not help himself when it came to the roll of the dice, the deep thought that came into thinking up the perfect bet, the satisfaction of having the perfect line up to win. It was a never ending enjoyment and past time for him, one that he was gladly sat at to play once more. In one short movement he managed to sit down in front of his next opponent, slide his hat off and place his cane next to the table.

In a matter of a few short moments, Watson had gone from doubling his pocket to completely losing what he had brought with him. Perhaps Holmes was truly right about something once again. He stood up, putting his hat on and turning to leave back to Baker Street. He was no farther along from where he had been sitting moments ago when he saw a man chasing a woman. He watched in interest for a moment, when the man ended up catching the woman, grabbing tightly onto her wrist. Watson had never been one to stand by and let something happen, especially when there was something that could be done. The man, who was built up rather well, certainly looked as if the he could break the woman in just a few swift motions. Watson quickly headed over to the scene to break it up.

Just shortly before he made it over, he began to make out what was going on. This woman was struggling to get free of the tight grip of the man, who seemed to be smirking, fully aware of the fact that the girl could not get loose. "Maybe if your father would not have left you here on your own, beautiful, then you may not have gotten into a mess," he smiled, moving closer to her. "He owes me a lot of money, yet he gave you to me to pay his debt." The man smiled, leaning down over the woman. Watson managed to reach the two finally. The man's chest huffed, a look of anger quickly sketched over his face.

"My dear fellow, I do say that you should let such a pretty young woman go and not try and hurt her," Watson said, pushing the man away from her with one swift flick of his cane. The man growled as Watson pushed him away. "Now sir, it would be the best for all involved if you just walked away from this situation." The man growled.

"I suggest you leave," he growled once again, spitting in Watson's direction. Watson shook his head; he was in no mood for a complete brawl. The man made a move to knock him to the ground, which Watson returned with a swift kick to the gut, leaning down on the ground and pulling the arms of his coat jacket around the man's neck.

"Just listen to and trust me," Watson replied, as the man went limp and fell unconscious, "I'm a doctor." Watson let the man fall to the ground, standing up and putting back on his coat jacket. Watson turned to get a good look at the woman for the first time. Her blonde hair curled gently at the ends, yet cupped lightly around her heart shaped face. Her sky blue eyes were drawn out from the color of her ocean blue dress. She was of definite beauty; there was no possible way to deny it. "Doctor Watson," he said, taking her wrist to see if there had been any damage done to her.

"I know who you are, Doctor," she replied, looking down at his hand moving over her wrist. She winced slightly. "Diana," she replied, looking back at Watson's eyes. She had read the stories in the paper about him and Sherlock Holmes, as well as seen the pictures, but had never imagined he would be this gorgeous in real life. He smiled as their eyes made contact once again.

"Well, you have slight damage to your wrist, but if you shall walk with me back to my house on Baker Street I will tend to it for you," he smiled. She nodded and the two headed back to Baker Street. Watson smiled, thinking to himself that there had never been a better day to gamble.


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: **Thanks for all of the reviews. Because I got so many people asking me to update, I decided to take the one-shot and turn it into a multi-chaptered story. Enjoy. R&R please.

Chapter 2:

It had been a week since the incident on Baker Street; Diana was sitting in the study reading when her sister walked in."What are you reading?" Renee asked, sitting down across from her. She smiled as she walked into the room, knowing her sister's mind was completely unfocused on the book, but rather on a handsome doctor she had told her all about.

"I don't know." Diana said, closing the book, "I wasn't paying attention," she put the book down on the desk that she had been sitting behind, trying to keep the thoughts about Doctor Watson out of her mind. Her sister however, knew her better.

"You're still thinking of him aren't you? That doctor fellow." Renee smiled at her sister. "I have never seen you so absent minded; now i insist on meeting him." Renee laughed lightly as Diana rolled her eyes. Rena rolled her eyes back playfully, knowing perfectly well that her sister was going to roll out some lame excuse about how she shouldn't go and see him again.

"He's probably busy working on cases." Diana said reasonably. "Besides, i doubt he would remember a silly girl like me." As much as it was a hit to her, she knew it was probably true. She had never been one to attract guys to her.

"You are so pessimistic at times you know that?" Renee rolled her eyes once again, shaking her head at her sister. If only she truly allowed herself to it, to actually try before she put herself down. Then she would know how great she truly was.

"I'm just realistic." Diana sighed, ignoring her sister's head roll, as she grabbed the book to open it once more. Renee pushed the book back down onto the desk, stopping her sister from opening it. Diana sighed and gave up on hope of dropping the subject.

"How cute is he? Did he say anything when he helped you?" Renee grinned as Diana blushed. Suddenly,

both girls froze as they heard a creak from upstairs, "Probably just the wind, window must have opened again. It never likes to stay shut." Renee said. Both girls shrugged it off. "Now, was the doctor cute?"

"Yes he was cute but so what? Some other lucky girl has probably caught his eye already." she muttered. "And yes we talked, but it wasn't about anything really, he just asked who I was and where I was from and who the stupid idiot was who almost broke my arm and other things, completely unimportant."

"Yes well, I am going to prove to you that all hope is not lost and i have just the thing upstairs." Renee grinned as she jumped out of her seat and ran out of the study and up the stairs.

"While you're up there close the window, we don't need to cold air getting into the house!" Diana laughed after her energetic sister. She chuckled to herself again, wondering what her sister could possibly be up to this time.

Renee walked into her room and opened the wardrobe. "Now where did I put you," she mumbled to herself as she looked through the wardrobe, completely unaware of the other figure in the room until it was too late.

Suddenly a pair of arms grabbed her from behind; one covered her mouth, stopping her scream. She felt a face burry itself in her hair, as if the person was trying to get a good weft of her scent. Renee panicked, acting only on instincts she knocked her head back, hitting her assailant in the face before biting down on their hand before screaming as loud as she could. She made a run for the door, but was caught once more. "Diana!" she screamed, before she felt the hand cover something over her mouth, keeping her unable to scream once more.

Diana heard her sister scream her name and bolted out of the study and up the stairs. "Renee?!" she yelled, searching frantically for her sister as she entered her sister's bedroom. After a few moments, she called out into the silence once more. "Renee?!" she called out again when she noticed the necklace on the floor. Diana ran over and picked it up. It was their mothers before it was Renee's, their father had given it to her for her last birthday before he passed. Renee never took it off. Diana noticed that the window was open. Just as she ran over she saw her sister being forced into a carriage by a man as it raced out of the gates.

Diana turned to run downstairs and after the carriage when a piece of paper on the bed caught her eye. She quickly grabbed it as she ran out of the room, as she started to read it, she froze."No," she whispered to herself before grabbing her shall and running out of the manor, pocketing the note and necklace.

Renee looked around the cart dazed by the sudden events that had just happened. It was almost pitch black inside the cart, but she could feel someone's eyes watching her. "How I've missed you," a voiced whispered, a hand reached out to stroke her cheek and hair. Renee tried to slap his hand away when she noticed her hands had been tied.

"Who are you?" she demanded, the pair of eyes seemed to smirk. She managed to hide any inch of fear that she felt, not wanting to give her captor anything to use over her. He continued to stroke her cheek, and she saw his white teeth come out as he smiled.

"I used to see you every day til your father fired me, the same day he denied me your hand, but now he can't help you now." the voice laughed. He moved closer, planting his lips on hers. He smirked into the 'kiss' as she started to squirm. "you were always meant to be mine, Renee. Your father just couldn't see it."

"You'll never get away with this." Renee growled. She still had no idea who he was, but knew Diana would never let anything happen to her. "My sister-"

"Your sister can't do anything, she won't find us, she doesn't know how or where to look." he smirked cutting her off as he played with her hair. "You'll make me a lovely bride and I will make up the years I was denied from you," he smirked, letting his eyes roam her body in the dim light.

"I will NEVER marry a monster like you." Renee glared at the man that was holding her hostage. She knew her sister would come and save her, one way or another. He shook his head as he moved closer to her, kiss her once more.

"Well, we'll just have to see about that one," he whispered into her ear as he pulled away, smirking to himself. "I am invincible now, my dear."

Holmes and Watson sat in their study. Holmes sat in his chair facing the wall, shooting his gun trying to create a silencer again. He had grown quite bored of not having any interesting cases to solve. Watson sat at his desk reading, or trying to at least; as his mind continued to wander back to the beautiful blonde he had saved a week prior. "Watson, you are still thinking of that girl aren't you?" Holmes said bored.

"What are you talking about?" Watson played dumb as he looked up from his book.

"You've been staring at the same page for almost an hour, Either it's a really interesting page or you're not paying attention." Holmes said obviously as he reloaded his gun. "My money is on the second one." Holmes said before firing the gun a second time.

Watson shook Holmes' comment off as Holmes continued to tinker and shoot his gun when the door slammed open. "Diana?" Watson asked moving over to her as Holmes turned to look at the girl. she was somewhat pale and shaking, trying to keep herself calm.

"I...I need your help." she stuttered. "I know you're...you're probably busy but i didn't know who else to go to, the police won't listen and-" she continued to try and fight completely breaking down, but knew that she would be unable to keep it up for much longer, as Watson came and put his hand on her shoulder.

"Calm down." Watson said, moving her towards his seat at the desk. "now, what happened?" he asked as he leaned on his desk next to her.

"He...he took my little sister. We were talking and she went upstairs and the next thing I know is she's screaming and I run up to see what's happened and she's gone and the window is open and..and I see this man shoving her into a carriage and it sped off and i turned to run downstairs and after it when I saw her necklace on the floor and the note and the police say it's a hoax or a trick and she's fine but-"

This time Holmes interrupted her.

"Are you referring to the necklace that is in your pocket? may I see it?" he said, holding his hand out. He had seen an indent in her pocket, and wanted to see if he could find any clues from the necklace. The moment his eyes hit the emerald jewels, and his hands felt the silver, he recognized the necklace.

_Holmes was once again at his usual bar and fights. so far he had been undefeated, again. He was fixing to leave when he got another challenger. he had been winning til he saw a pretty raven haired girl catch his attention, before he got knocked on the head, causing him to lose the fight. she smiled at him before turning to finish her drink. Holmes got up and walked out of the ring to the bar after shaking hands with the opponent. He took a seat next to the raven haired girl._

_"I suppose it was a good thing changed my bet to him." she smirked as Holmes sat down. She smiled as he sat on his stool, looking as if he had just been slapped. _

_"You did that on purpose." Holmes said as he took a beer from the bartender._

"_Change my bet? yes i did." she smirked, Holmes just stared at her. she was almost as tall as he was, dark raven black hair up in a bun and bright green eyes that burned like a fire. She was beautiful. He shook the thought out of his head. _

_"That's an interesting necklace." he said. He gently lifted it up with his fingers as he continued to examine it. "these are rare jewels only found in Moscow, however it is a bit worn so I would say you are the second to possess it, the first being your mother."_

"_And how do you know it is my mother wore this before me?" she quipped, knowing he was a smart ass, but also knowing she could easily leave him dumbfounded._

_"Well I highly doubt it was your father." Holmes smiled. He could see easily that she was trying to best his intelligence._

_"Hm. And how might you be so certain Mr. Holmes? did you follow my father around when you were a lad?" she retorted. Holmes looked taken back for a moment. She was quite a pretty face, but had a tongue like his own. _

_He was never one to lose in a battle of wits. Quickly, he thought up a response to her remark. "No but I highly doubt a man of his ranking would wear such a rare jewel whilst working." _

_"And who says he was only at work Mr. Holmes?" she smirked, knowing no one had ever been able to outwit him, or at least make him think. She smirked bigger after a few moments, as he had yet to come up with a response to her last remark._

_"Well...I…" Holmes was left speechless. He had never been bested, yet here stood this woman who had easily outsmarted him from the moment he laid eye on her. Quite frankly, he was very impressed. _

_Renee smirked, standing up as she paid for her glass of wine. she smirked as Holmes had yet to come up with anything to say back to her. "Good night Mr. Holmes." she smirked as she walked off._

_"Wait!" he stopped her. "What's your name?" he asked. He had tried to gather any information he could from her, but it had been an unsuccessfully attempt. He had never not been able to gather information and figure out his subject without needing to be told information, yet she had done another wonder. He was becoming rather impressed with her. _

_"Surely the great Sherlock Holmes, the man who can solve any mystery, can surely find out my name." she smirked as she walked off, once again leaving Holmes speechless. 'Damn,' he thought to himself as she walked out. _

"This necklace, it belonged to your sister?" Holmes asked. Diana simply nodded. "Does she have raven black hair, bright green eyes, sharp tongue and about five foot six?" He knew for certain that it was her, but he wanted to confirm it. After all, she had been able to outsmart him at the pub, maybe she would also be able to do that here, even with it just being her necklace that was in his presence.

"Yes, how do you know that?" Diana asked surprised. She had never heard her sister mention the world famous detective before. She had read his solved cases in the paper, but that was about all. "But what has that got to do with anything?"

"It has nothing to do with the case; I just wanted to make sure about something." Holmes said as if it were obvious. "Now, may I see the note?" he said, holding his hand out to read it after handing the necklace back to Diana. She handed him the note.

"It was found on her bed, next to the window, which I assume is how that monster got in." Diana growled, holding the necklace. Holmes read the note silently. His face froze.

"What's your sister's name?" he asked quietly. He wanted to figure that mystery out, and reread the note to himself, his face showing his expressions more clearly this time.

"Renee." Diana answered, not seeing the detective's face change at all. Watson saw Holmes face fall. He had been Diana's side trying to comfort her when Holmes had gone silent. He had never seen his partner act like this before, and knew that the note could be nothing good. Still, it surprised him to see Holmes act in such a manner.

"By now you know that your baby sister is gone and is with me, it is in your best interest to give your fathers laboratory keys to me by this coming Friday or my soon to be wife will pay dearly and painfully." Holmes read aloud in a serious tone. "Signed CW."

"CW?" Watson echoed. "Who is CW?"

"My Father's ex assistant." Diana whispered as all eyes fell on here. "I know who he is but I don't know where he is. Can you help me?" she asked.

"Of course we'll help." Holmes said. What can you tell us about this CW?" He placed the note down on his desk to use later in case they needed any clues from it. He leaned against the desk, waiting for the young woman to tell the story.

"His name is Christopher Weese. He worked for my father when we were younger. He always scared me; something about him just seemed off." Diana started off.

"How so?" Holmes asked. He wanted to know as much detail as he possibly could in order to get a clearer idea of what they were going to be up against.

"I don't know, something in my gut told me to stay away. It wasn't until we were older he started to pay more attention to us."

"More so towards your sister I presume." Holmes said.  
"Yes." Diana answered semi calm. "She was only thirteen at the time, one day he asked my father for her hand, she was out at a friend's house, I was home cleaning, I could hear the argument from across the house and behind closed doors." she said. "My father immediately said no, he wouldn't allow such a corrupted man near his children, especially one almost his age." she said, as if reliving that moment. "You have to understand," she said looking up at Holmes and Watson, "after my mother died, we were all he had, we were his life. Christopher was furious at my father, he started screaming and I could hear things breaking. He threatened my father, the last thing he said was one day, he was going to get Renee, If it was the last thing he did and he stormed out of the house. I had stayed hidden where I was til he had left before I ran to my father's study. he sat me down and explained to me that no matter what happens, I have to protect my sister, and if I ever saw that man again to grab Renee and run as fast as I could. No matter what. he made me swear." Diana was shaking by the end of her story; Watson held her hand as Holmes stood. "And now my baby sister is in the hands of that madman," she said, trembling, trying to force ideas of what he could be doing to her out of her head. Watson wrapped his arm around her protectively.

"Well, it looks like we have a case."


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: **Sorry for the long wait of the update. R&R and enjoy.

Chapter 3:

It was pitch black by the time Holmes was finished questioning Diana, trying to get any information that could possibly helpful in finding the man responsible. Holmes had automatically began to work after he was finished questioning her, leaving Watson and Diana talking in the room as he worked quietly. Diana had completely lost track of time when she looked out the window to find the sky had gone black. She looked at her watch. It was well past midnight. "I better be going," she said, standing up and turning to leave the room.

"No, don't," Watson said before he could stop himself. Holmes looked at his partner with an amused expression on his face. Watson caught Holmes look and continued to speak before Holmes got the chance to. "It's dark and not safe for you to be wondering the streets of London alone at night. You can stay here for the night and in the morning, well, Holmes can decide how we are going to start this case," Watson said firmly, shooting Holmes a look that told him to keep quiet and return to whatever he had been working on.

"Alright," Diana replied, turning the door knob to open it. "Where would you have me stay? I don't want to be in your way," she finished, waiting for Watson to tell her where to go. She hadn't expected the doctor to respond to her leaving the way he had. She figured he was concerned that Weese may go back to the house in case he needed something, and that Holmes needed her in case he had a question to ask her. Watson walked to the door and led her to a different room. Holmes stayed in the study, chuckling to himself.

"You can have my room," he replied, opening the door to her. He walked over to the drawer and pulled out a pair of his night clothes and handed them to her, before taking one for himself. She took the clothes and looked taken back for a moment.

"Are you sure you don't want your room?" she asked. She didn't want him to have to sleep somewhere uncomfortable. He nodded.

"Positive," he replied. "I will be in the room just up the stairs," he said, as he slowly started to back out of the room. "If you need anything, do not hesitate to ask," he finished, shutting the door behind him. She heard him climb up the stairs and another door shut before she changed into the night clothes. They smelled of the same peppermint that the doctor did. She smiled as she slowly moved into his bed, getting comfortable. She didn't really want to sleep, afraid of what the nightmares would have in store for her. Slowly, she began to lose her fight with her urge to fall asleep, and her eyes closed, still afraid of what might be the result of it.

* * *

_Diana found herself sitting in a bare room. She realized that no one else was in the room, and that it was bare entirely. She started to get up when a cage appeared in front of her. A man stood in front of it, looking down at the context of the cage. Inside were two others. Diana tried to get the attention of the man in front of the cage, trying to figure out what was going on. When he wouldn't answer, she realized that she was locked in her dream and that nobody was going to be able to see or hear her. It was as if she were looking at the scene in a photograph. She stepped around the cage to get a better look at what was in it. She saw two people, one that was sitting up, the other laid across the others' legs, being kept protectively in their arms. She realized that the one sitting up was no other than Holmes. She was taken back for a moment, until it dawned on her that the other person had to be Renee. She tried to get a better view of her sister, but Holmes was shielding her from the man outside the cage, and her as well. She looked at the man and her heart stopped. Weese had Holmes now as well. And he didn't look happy either. She kept her eyes on him, as his lips tugged into a smirk. Diana froze, worried as to what was going to happen next. Weese snapped his fingers, and another man walked into the room, opening the cage. Weese stepped into it, forcibly grabbing Renee from Holmes arms into his own. Renee woke up after she had been taken from Holmes. Holmes reached to grab her back, but found the attempt useless as the cage slammed shut after Weese had stepped out of it. Diana could see Renee perfectly now. She was covered in purple bruises and bite marks. She growled, wanting to grab her sister away from Weese, but knowing the attempt would be useless. She could only watch as the nightmare continued to play out. Weese smirked at Holmes as he pulled out a silver dagger, burrowing it into Renee's stomach. Diana screamed as the blood started flow out of her sister and her face went pale. Diana tried to wake herself up from the nightmare, but found the attempt as useless as her attempt to save her sister.  
_

Watson had started to settle down in the room for the night, ready to go into a light sleep. He kept his door cracked open slightly, just in case Diana needed anything from him. He made a bed on the floor, before drifting beginning to attempt to fall asleep, only to be woken up by a scream coming from Diana's room. He grabbed his cane and quickly headed down the stairs into his room, quickly opening the door. He held up his lantern, looking around the room for any threat, before looking to the bed. Diana was asleep, but obviously not dreaming. He placed the lantern down on the night stand, before taking Diana into his arms. "Wake up," he said into her ear. "It's alright, it's just a dream," he whispered into her ear. Her eyes shot open as soon as he finished speaking to her.

Diana woke up to find a pair of strong arms wrapped protectively around her. She looked around the room and realized that it was not her own. It took her a moment to realize that she had stayed in the duo's home in Baker Street for the night. She turned and looked up at the person holding her to find that it was Watson. She buried her face into his chest. "It was just a dream," she whispered into the doctor's chest, not caring what he thought of her at this point.

He held her tightly, stroking her hair to help her calm down. "What happened?" he asked, wanting to be able to calm her. She looked more panicked now then when she had come into the house earlier. She was quiet for a moment, and he could tell she was still scared of what had gone on it it. He stood up slowly and walked to the wardrobe, grabbing a case that sat on the bottom of it. He picked the case up and set in on the table, looking for something to give her so that she would have a dreamless sleep. He returned over to her and took of the cork. "Here, take this. It will help." She looked up at him as if she were uncertain if she should or not. "Trust me," he stated, putting the vile into her hand. She drank it slowly til it was gone, then put it back into his hand. He put it back into the case, returning it to it's proper place before turning to leave the room.

"Stay, please," she said. "I don't want to be left on my own," she added. He shut the door, grabbing a chair and sitting next to her before blowing out the candle in the lantern. He took both of her hands in his own, as she slowly drifted off into a peaceful sleep. After he was sure that she would be out until morning, he drifted off into his own slumber.

* * *

Holmes sat in his study, looking over the note once more. He looked at the paper more than the words on it, trying to find any traces of residue that would be helpful to him so that he may figure out where Weese was at. He walked over to his desk and lit another candle, holding the paper over it trying to see if the ink would lead him to clues. Yet, there was none to be found. He placed the note down on the desk, going back to the table that had his drink sat on it. He took another quick swift of it, before placing it back down. Her face quickly flashed across his mind, but the necklace was the detail that stuck out the most. He pulled it out of his pocket, looking over the jewels the most, as if the were holding some clue. He put it back into his pocket as he saw nothing at first. One again her face flashed across his mind, and that was when he realized what he had been missing. He pulled the necklace out once again and ran his fingers over the emerald that sat in the middle of the necklace. He looked at his finger to find green mold left there. It was nearly the same shade as the jewel itself, however it was just a tad more darker. He walked over to the table he had left his candle on. He cleaned off the rest of the substance from the jewel and looked it over. The remains of what he found intrigued him. The substance was a specific type of mold, found only near the sewer system. He headed out of his study, going to find Watson. "Watson!" he called as he headed towards Watson's study. "Watson!" he called again, only to be answered by the silence. He held up his lantern in the dark room and looked over it for his partner. He was no longer in the room, though it was obvious that he had been shortly before. He headed down the stairs to go and look for the doctor. Once again, he found a missing doctor. He headed up the stairs and remembered that he had given his bedroom to Diana. _'He wouldn't," _Holmes convinced himself, but headed to Watson's room nonetheless. He opened the door slightly, and found his missing partner asleep, with his and Dianas' hands were intertwined, as if Watson were trying to keep her safe and locked with him. He only shook his head as the doctor began to wake up.

Watson started to wake up when he heard the door open. He looked up to see Holmes standing in the door way, a smirk sketched over his face. Watson only shook his head, careful not to wake her up. Holmes opened his mouth to whisper something when Watson cut him off with a look that told him to mind his own business. Holmes shut the door and walked back to his study. Watson shifted in the chair slightly, when he heard a small moan come from her. She was beginning to wake up. He moved out of the chair and away from the bed, allowing her to get up. She looked over at him as he managed to put the chair back in it's proper place. She smiled lightly, he had stayed.

* * *

Renee woke up and rubbed her head. She sat up and realized that she wasn't on her bed like she normally was, but rather on the ground of a cage. She didn't remember getting here. All she could remember was being dragged out her house and put into a carriage. She realized that whomever had taken her from the house must had decided it were best to keep her there for the night. She slowly began to stand up, making her way over to the opening of the cage. She fingered the lock before grabbing a pin from her hair, trying to open it. She nearly had it opened when a door swung open, letting light into the room. She quickly moved away before she was caught for trying to get free. The man smirked as he opened the cage door. "The little princess is up," he opened the cage and grabbed her arm before dragging her down a hall.

Renee was dragged down the hall until the man stopped, putting her into the room. Inside were pipe lines. He let go of her arm, but made sure that she couldn't get out of the room. She turned around and looked at him. He didn't look like the man that had grabbed her inside of her house. "What is going on?" she asked, wanting to get answers. He only shook his head with a smile.

"Your master wanted your attention, and I came to fetch you for him," he replied. Renee shook her head.

"I don't have a master," she growled at the man. She wanted a better answer to her question, but knew that she was not going to get one from him. The man shook his head once more, when a new voice entered the room.

"You do now," said the new voice, and she recognized it as the same one that had spoken to her in the carriage. He smirked at her as she moved backwards, her back connecting into the wall, and she realized she had no where to go.


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: **Again, sorry for the long wait. Life has been rather busy lately, anyway, I hope you enjoy.

Chapter 4:

Holmes was just about finished gathering his things when Watson walked into the study. Holmes meerly smirked down at the table, ignoring his partner's presence for the time being. He had found it rather entertaining that Watson had spent the night in the same room as Diana. As if it had not been enough for him to just have her stay in the same house for the night. Watson could see Holmes' smirk, and knew that he was going to get some type of comment or another. He wished that his partner had not found him, but rather remained unaware of the situation. "Holmes," Watson started off, only getting the detective look up at him for a quick moment, before he returned to picking up things he thought he would need for the day. "Holmes," Watson said again, getting his attention that time. Holmes only smirked bigger, knowing exactly what was on his collegues mind. "What are you smirking about now?" he questioned, hoping that by some odd chance, he would bring up something else. But knowing Holmes better, he knew that it wasn't.

"Do tell me Watson," he said, turning his back as he spoke, looking out the window, "Were you comfortable last night? I couldn't tell from the doorway." he smirked as Watson glared. "She looked quite comfortable," he turned to see Watson's glare enlarge. "It's quite interesting, actually. You have presented me with a new little case entirely." Watson saw Holmes' smirk turn into a smile as he finished, meerly fingering his hat that sat on the table.

"Holmes, what are you going on about?" Watson asked, growing tired of his mind games. Holmes didn't reply, but rather continued to ignore anything Watson said for a few more moments, sliding on his jacket and placing his hat on his head. Watson's glare sharpened, he hated when Holmes would do this to him. "Holmes," Watson stated again, making him stop and lean against the table, now making eye contact once again.

"I find it quite odd that such a man as yourself, having been raised like a proper gentleman, would be involved in such a scandal," he stated seriously, though his facial expression told Watson that he was quite amused. He shook his head at Holmes, grabbing his own hat off of the shelf. Holmes began to scratch at his chin. "And the fact that you are responding to a question like this suggest that something did happen last night," he hid his smirk behind his hand.

Watson stopped in his tracks. "Nothing happened Holmes," he said, shaking his head at his partner. "She simply did not want to be alone, and after her nightmare I did not think it was the best idea to do so." Holmes snickered at his response. Watson groaned, he wasn't going to give up until he was absolute sure that the story he was recieving was the truth.

"But you _want_ something to happen, Watson, and that makes all the difference," Holmes replied. He opened his mouth to speak once more, but was beat to speaking by Watson that time.

"Just like you wish you could have formed a complete, intellegent sentence in front of Renee?" Watson remarked, remembering the state that Holmes had come in from the bar. How irritated he had been that somebody had been able to return any statement he could concoct. "You made a proper idiot out of yourself for a change," he smirked as Holmes looked taken back by the comment he had made.

Holmes was about to say something when there was a light knock on the door. "Come in, we were only discussing the case," he said, knowing perfectly well that it was Diana. She walked into the room, gently shutting the door behind her.

"Diana-" Watson started, only to be cut off by Holmes.

"I hope you slept well last night, Miss Diana, it would have been a distaster if anything had happened to you," Holmes said, smirking at Watson, never breaking eye contact with his partner. Diana looked at Watson and couldn't help but give out a little blush. Holmes' smirk widened, as he turned around, pretending to be doing something.

"It was, though I still feel as if I imposed," she replied, sitting down on one of the chairs across the room from Holmes and Watson. Watson went to try and say something once again, but Holmes beat him to it once more.

"Not at all," Holmes said, his grin staying sketched over his face. Watson only shook his head at him, as he walked over and leaned on the table next to where Diana was sitting. He saw Holmes open his mouth to speak once more, and knew he needed to beat him to speaking that time.

"As you were saying Holmes?" Watson asked, not wanting his collegue to make anymore of his remarks. Holmes removed the smirk from his face and switched it with a more serious look. He walked over to the door, still not saying anything, and keeping his silence for a few moments longer. "Holmes?"

"Ah yes, Watson, I did find a few things that would be helpful to me for this case. I have figured out the location of where Weese has set himself up, but I cannot be certain of the exact part of said location yet. I would like to have a closer look of your house for anything else that may be of help."

"Understandable," was the only thing that Diana replied, standing up and walking out of the door, Watson following first with Holmes not to far behind him. The three climbed into a carriage, and set off to their destination. Holmes sat across from Watson, who was next to Diana. Holmes kept a small smirk on his face, one that Watson tried to ignore for the trip over. He had had enough of his comments for the time being, and would rather keep quiet then make any conversation with Diana or Holmes. He knew all too well that if he said anything to her, Holmes would find some way to use it for his own entertainment.

When the carriage came to a stop in front of the house, Holmes came out first, and automatically began searching the outside area for anything he might find helpful for the case. He stopped for a moment, turning to Diana. "Is there any one else beside you and your sister who lives here?" he inquired, as his first question. "And another thing before you head into the house," he added quickly before continuing, "which part of the house is your sister's room on?"

"No, it's just my sister and myself who live here," Diana replied, her hand turning the door knob. "And her room is on the backside on the left," she finished, before stepping into the house followed by Watson, shutting the door behind them. Watson looked over the inside of the door from the steps inside. It was a smaller house, but very organized and looked like a comfortable living space. There were a few paintings on the walls, a stack of newspapers in a basket next to the fire, and books were found at several places along the room. Diana started up the stairs, and he followed her.

"I have to warn you," she said, breaking the silence that was between the two of them, "Tommy can be a bit unfriendly sometimes, though he isn't as bad as he used to be." Watson looked at her with a puzzled look.

Watson kept the puzzled look on his face, until he saw a black cat jump down at Diana's feet, with a glare pierced over it's face. "There is a witch's cat at your feet," he said simply. Diana rolled her eyes at him, before bending down and picking the cat up. It hissed at Watson, before purring as she stroked it's skin.

"His name is Tommy, and he's not a witch's cat. Renee found him when he was younger, and we adopted him," she replied, before setting the cat back on the ground. Watson watched it make its way down the stairs. The two began to walk up the stairs once more, when a voice came from behind them.

"You have a cat," said Holmes, having just walked past it, before continuing to walk in front of the two, heading towards the room he had figured to be Renee's. "What a shame. Wouldn't you agree Watson?" he asked, before opening the door. He walked in, not bothering to see if Diana and Watson followed him in or not.

Watson walked in after Holmes, and saw him at the window, running his finger over the outside handle for a moment. After had done so, he wiped his finger over a sheet of paper, before turning and walking towards one of the far corners of the room. He bent down in front of it, and Watson saw that he was sitting in front of a wardrobe. He repeated the same step he had at the window, only when he was done that time, he stood up and set the papers down on the desk that was in the bedroom. He pulled out the necklace, placing it in between the two sheets of paper.

"Well, it is the middle area of the sewers, closer to the river bank, as this mold is moist and has mud mixed into it," he stated, without feeling need to give himself any explanation. He moved the two papers closer to each other, combining the context of the papers together. "He works in several areas, using pipes, as there is rust mixed in with it as well," he added, picking up a small chunk of it and placing it inside of an envelope. "And you were correct, Miss Diana," he said, looking up from the table to her, "he did get in using the window, as the footprint that are barely left in the grass and mud, suggesting that they older than the ones that would have resulted from my walking, ended by the tree that branches out close enough to her room window, as well as the finger prints found on the window ceil," he finished, before picking up something off the desk and walking out of the room. "Unfortunetly for us, he knew you would try something, and mixed his steps over several places, picking up more pieces of sediment under his shoes and fingers."

"But it shouldn't be that hard to separate if it wasn't mixed together well. The ground near the water front portion of the sewers would be different from the path taken to get here," Watson stated, recieving a nod from Holmes.

"Correct Watson. Now, we must get back to Baker Street so I may do so," he said, quickly walking out of the house. "The longer the envelope stays in my pocket, the more mixed up it gets with each step I take. So, do not walk so slow this time, you two, and I will not have to worry about losing the small amount of evidence we do have." Watson and Diana followed, as Holmes quickly made his way back into a carriage to speed off to Baker Street once more.

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Review, please.


	5. Chapter 5

**AN: Well, as swimteam starts tomorrow, I may not be able to update once a week, but I will try my hardest. R&R and enjoy Chapter 5 :)**

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**Chapter 5:**

Renee tried to find a way to get around the man, but after a moment gave up on the attempt. She looked at him, getting a clearer image of him now that the light was hitting him. He didn't look too old, no more than five or six years older than her. His mud brown hair was combed back nicely, as if he were a gentleman. However, the rest of his attire said otherwise. His face was covered in black ash and soot, which also was smeered over his clothes. His fingers looked rough and cut up, as if he had been carelessly cutting something. He reached out a stroked her hair lightly, sending a chill through her body. He smiled when he saw the reaction she had, showing his light yellow, shinning teeth. He seemed to be quite pleased with the reaction he was recieving from her. Renee mentally screamed at herself to quit giving him a reaction, and somehow found herself doing just that. She whacked his hand away from her hair, and he stepped back in shock.

"Now, Renee, be a good girl," he said, stepping a few inches away from her, but staying close enough to her that he could grap her if he chose to. She just stayed against the wall, still trying to find a way to get out of there. He caught the look in her eyes and was able to tell what she was thinking, and decided to express a warning to her. "I wouldn't try to escape if I were you. I will only catch you again and make you pay for the attempt," he smirked as her face hardened, trying not to show any signs of fear.

"Who are you?" she asked, giving up in trying to remember. He let out a disappointed sigh, keeping quiet. Renee waited for him to say something, but he remained quiet, and the entire room was still. "Who are you?" she asked again, trying not to let her voice crack. He shook his head that time, stepping closer to her as he wrapped his arms around her waist. She tried to push him away, only to have him pull her closer by her hips.

He stroked her hair and cheek, before choosing to speak. "I had wished you rememberd me, Renee," he said, kissing her forehead. "Think about it, my dear, it should come to you," he said, keeping her locked in his arms. She looked up into his hard, dark blue eyes, and a look of realization sketched over her face. Her struggling stopped as her mind finally came to terms with the man that was holding her hostage.

"Weese the weasel," she mumbled under her breathe, remembering the things in the past that had occured because of him. His face became a dark shade of red, as he lifted his right hand and striked her across the face, letting her fall to the ground from the force of it. Renee caught herself before she had fallen completly, picking herself up off of the ground.

"Well, I am glad to see that you remember me now, even if it is by that ridiculous name you and your sister used to go around calling me," he snarled, letting her get up off of the ground. He took in a small breathe, allowing his face to return to the original color of pale white it had been. He grabbed her into his side once more, walking to a generator that sat in the middle of the room.

"It's not a ridiculous name, it's what you are," she spat back, pulling out of his vice grip once more. He growled once more, but let her step a few paces away from his side. She stood there, looking back from him to the machiene. "What is that?" she asked, giving it a better look. Two pipes connected to into one at the base of it, and the tube went into a container that was half way filled with water. The container took up almost the entire center of the room, and looked as if it kept running to something that was underneath the room.

"It is not what I am, and if you are going to address me, you will call me Sir," he responded, his voice filled with rage. He smirked at her confused and puzzled look as she tried to figure out what the machiene was. "It controls the water flow," he said simply, leaning against it. "And I need you to work out to open it without it breaking so that I can use it," he finished.

Renee stared at him with confoundment etched over her face. "How am I supposed to know how to do that," she responded, without giving much though into her reaction. He smirked, pulling a small notebook out of his pocket.

"Your father is the one who made sure it ran properly, and I know you can figure it out. I would have done so myself, but there is a page missing, one that I need you to rewrite for me," he said, throwing her the notebook. "I need the problem solved before the end of the week, my dear. There isn't time for you to try to find a way out of doing this for me," he finished, heading towards the door. He stopped before he exited, turning around and facing her once again. "But if you want to bother to try to escape, we can just have your sister brought here, and I will not be as kind to her as I have been to you," he laughed as Renee's face froze, slamming the door as he walked out of the room. The other man who had dragged her into the room had also disappeared out of it. She sighed, turning to the page before the tear. She slowly began to try and work out what was missing.

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Back at Baker Street, Holmes had his eye locked down on his microscope as he tried to separate the sediments carefully. The thought had began to weave its way into his head that Weese was working someplace other than the sewers, but the mold said otherwise. He looked up for a moment, having it dawn on him that the room was much too still and quiet. He turned around to see Diana sat at the table, with Watson on the opposite side of the room, sitting against the desk. Holmes rolled his eyes at his partner, who caught the look in the detective's eye. He was going to try to meddle in his personal life again, Watson figured, and he had grown rather tired of it. He meerly shook his head at his partner, who, after giving Watson a disapproving frown, returned back to his work.

Watson looked from Holmes to Diana, not able to forget what Holmes had said earlier that morning. As per usual, Holmes had been correct about wanting something to happen between Diana and himself. But the detective had forgotten to add in the fact that she was part of their case, and that he needed to be a professional and assist his partner. His eyes found their way back onto Diana, who was reading the day's paper. She had mesmerized him since the day he had met her, and continued to do so. Again, however, he shook the thought of his head of trying to make anything happen. She was a client, and that was where it was going to remain. Yet, his eyes found their way back onto her angelic face, and the logic that his mind was trying to convince the rest of his emotions with failed him. He came quietly and sat next to her, glancing over the paper while she read it. His eyes edventually fixed on her hands, remembering the way her soft sking felt under his hand while he tended to her arm a month previous. He had liked it, more than he would ever truly admit to himself.

He looked up to see if Holmes had moved on from looking at the microscope. When he did, his eyes hit the dark ones of the detective, who more a bright smirk. Watson rolled his eyes, trying not to catch the message Holmes was attempting to send him. He stood up, getting a grip on his emotions before he found something to bring up when the had their next chat. Holmes chuckled as Watson moved from where he had been sitting next to Diana. Denial was not something the doctor usual had a case of, but when he did, it ended up being nothing but amusement for him.

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Yeah, not my best chapter but I hope you enjoy anyway. Review?


	6. Chapter 6

**AN: Well, sorry about the long wait. Anyway, here's the update. R&R and enjoy. **

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**Chapter 6:**

Holmes sat boredly on the edge of his experement table. The sediment extract had been more of a challenge then he had inticapated. All he managed to find was a small, almost undetectable fragment of wood. The only thing left now to discover was which warehouse Weese was working under. He looked over at Watson, who was still reading a book, whilst Diana was turning another page in the paper. He tried to read what he could off the paper, as he had nothing better to do. Suddenly, the silence was broken by a shocked gasp that came from Diana.

"Diana?" Watson asked, automatically alarmed. He threw his book to the side and rushed to her side in one quick movement. Holmes moved behind Diana so he could get a better view of the page, rolling his eyes at the protective gene that had implanted itself in Watson when it came to Diana. Watson had his hand placed on her shoulder, trying to break her out of the shock that she had been sent into, whilst Holmes got a better look at the article she had started to read.

"Local scientist dies of unknown causes," Holmes read from the bold letters that made up the headline. He looked at Diana's mezmorzied facial expression, trying to pinpoint the reason for her reaction. She still seemed locked in some sort of transe. His eyes roamed over the paper, trying to get a better idea of what had caused her scared reaction, when she finally responded to him and the doctor.

"I knew all of these men," Diana stated, breaking the state of shock she had been stuck in. Her finger trailed down the paper to the photo of nine scientists, and a smaller man who was glaring on the side. "These men worked with my father," she said, pointing to the man in the middle. "They were some of the best scientist London has ever had," she finished.

"And the one off to the side is Weese, I persume," Holmes responded, having caught a glimpse of the short, glaring man. Diana nodded, a sour expression on her face. Watson had walked over to a shelf, looking through a stack of old newspapers.

"That photo was in an article last month," he started, when he felt Holmes observing his action. Holmes arose, walking over to go and help Watson search for said paper. When they had, Holmes over looked both of the papers, automatically recognizing the similarities in the two deaths.

"Two scientist, who obviously knew Weese, dead within a month of each other," Holmes stated after a few moments, realizing the connection between the two deaths. He had remembered reading the earlier article, but at the time had thought nothing of it but a random death. Now, it was obvious to him that Weese was trying to clear out anybody who had worked with his employer, but for what reason? "Are any of them still alive that I could speak to?"

"Yes, two of them still live here in London," Diana replied, moving her finger to the man standing next to her father. "Dartmouth, however, is the only one that I still have the address for. He doesn't live to far from the manor. And he was also the second in command of the group, so he would be the one to talk to," she replied, looking up at Sherlock. He scratched his chin, grabbing his pipe from behind him.

"Then there isn't any time to waste then," he replied, grabbing his things quickly. Watson followed Holmes' lead, but then realized that his partner hadn't said anything about the sediments he had been working with just a short while before. He stopped, looking at what remained on the table. Holmes had made it out of the apartment when he realized no one was behind him. He quickly started up the stairs, wondering why Watson and Diana had been ignorant to his instruction. "Watson!" he called into the room, only to find his partner's back to him, with his face in the microscope.

"Holmes, what is all this?" he asked, seeing it as just a random mixture of dirt. Holmes simply came up besides Watson, pushing the microscope away from his partner. Watson stood up straight, trying to figure out what the detective was keeping from them. Holmes meerly gestered to the door. "Holmes-" he started once more, having grown tired of not being told things.

"All I have managed to extract from the evidence is that he is not only working in the sewers, but also in an old warehouse as well," he replied for both of them, before leaning into Watson so he could make sure only the doctor heard the next part of his sentence. "Your lady interrupted me before I could pull anything else out of it," he finished, pulling away from Watson's ear. The doctor's face had turned a deep shade of red, but Holmes knew it was embarrasement rather than anger. Holmes gave Watson a small smirk, glad that it was so easy to get under his skin. Watson rolled his eyes, putting his hat ontop of his head. Diana had arose and was already started out the door by the time that Watson and Holmes had finished having their moment.

Holmes walked infront of the two, who were walking even slower than the first trip down to the manor. Diana had given Holmes the address for Darthmouth's home, which was a bonus to him, because he didn't have to walk with the two clueless love birds. He snickered when he turned around to make sure that he hadn't lost the two of them. Diana's hand had gently brushed against Watson's, and the two had a pink coloring in his cheeks. He debated with himself, trying to decide if he should continue to use Watson's feelings to entertainment for himself, or give his partner a little assistance. He pushed all his thoughts out of his mind as he reached the home of Sir Alexander Dartmouth.

Diana stepped to the door, giving it a light knock. The first time, no one came to the door. Holmes gave it a slightly harder knock, and a short, balding, somewhat plump man came to the door. The man's eyes lit up with a smile when they hit Diana, and he rushed to give her a small hug. His view had completly blocked out Holmes and Watson, until Holmes took his chance to explain why they were there. "Sir Dartmouth," he started, getting his attention, "I am Sherlock Holmes," which recieved a small nod from the former scientist, "and I am here to discuss with you the recent death of Sir Norman which occured in the late hours of the night previous, as well as the death of Sir Maygrove, who passed a month prior to the other death." Dartmouth nodded again simply, stepping into the house, beckoning the three to follow him inside. The door shut behind them, and Dartmouth led them into the sitting area.

"What would you like to know, Mr. Holmes?" he asked, wanting to get the sniper put away. "Sir Norman and Sir Maygrove was always a good friend of mine," he stated, more to himself then the to the detective. Holmes stood in front of the fireplace, with Dartmouth in a rockchair to his left, and Diana and Watson sat on a sofa to his right.

"I want to know, if your memory can provide any clues from during the times when you were still in the working field, why Christopher Weese, the assistant to Miss Diana's father, would have turned into the man responsible for these deaths," he stated, turning towards Dartmouth. He saw the older man's face was filled with a bit of worry, and seemed to be almost completly frozen.

"Yes," was all that the older man replied, taking a few more minutes of silence to gather himself. His head turned away from the detective, making eye contact with Diana. "It has happened, hasn't it? He's gotten a hold of your sister," he stated, rather than asked. Diana meerly nodded in response, trying to keep all of the panic emotions from returning to her. Watson placed a comforting arm around her, which earned a quick smirk from Sherlock. Dartmouth returned his attention to Holmes, and the two seemed to completly block out Diana and Watson. "He had vowed that he would get even with all of us for the taunting we gave him," he stated, as Holmes only kept nodding.

"Is there anything specific that stands out in your mind? Even the littlest of things could be helpful to me," Sherlock said, pulling his pipe out of his pocket. Dartmouth gave him a simple nod, and Holmes began to have a small smoke from his pipe. Dartmouth thought for a few moments, and Holmes simply let him take the necissary time.

"He said that he was going to make sure he out lived all of us," Dartmouth stated, having remembered Christopher's last few words before he had been fired from his position. "He had also threatened Gregory that he would have his daughter, Renee, if it was the last thing that he ever made happen. We all had been watching Renee for quite some time after Gregory died, but after a while, we all figured that Christopher had disappeared or died," he stated. He looked over at Diana, who was still trying not to show how much the situation was effecting her. "It pains me to know that he finally did return and has the girl," he stated, standing up and walking over to find an old journal.

"Sir Dartmouth," Holmes started, having decided he wanted to have a small search of the manor, "do you mind if I inspected a couple of your rooms? As you are one of the two remaining scientists of the Order, I want to ensure that Weese has not started to plant what is needed for your death," he added, knowing perfectly well that he was looking for something else. He wanted a hint of what Weese could possibly being trying to create, and if possible, anything that could help him shut down the vile man's attempts.

"That is no problem to me, Mr. Holmes," he replied, sitting down with his journal. Holmes started up the stairs, and went straight to the room he figured to be Dartmouth's study. He began searching for any notebooks or journals that could be of help to his cause. He was just about to switch rooms when he spotted a white, single glove in the corner of the room. He walked over, picking up gently in his hand. His mind was thrown back into another memory the second he got a full look of it as it sat flat in his hand.

_He had been on another case, and had managed to pinpoint the location of the next planned attack. He had somehow managed to get into the party that was going on in the Royale that night. Unsuccessfully, he spent the first hour trying to find the man he was after, and after a while realized that his approach would continue to be in vain. He finally decided to try and blend in with the rest of the people there, and try that as his new approach. He went to grab a glass of wine when he saw a familiar figure in the far corner of the room, being spoken to by a young gentleman. He slowly made his way over to them, and saw her eyes light up in a smile when she saw him. He caught on to the fact that she would rather the man in front of him disappear and leave her alone, and he decided to help her out. _

_"There you are," he stated, moving to her side. She gave him a confused look, which he returned with an expression that read to follow his lead. She put her arm around his waist, while his wrapped around her shoulders. Sherlock gave a simple smile to the man in front of him, trying to figure something out about him. He seemed to fit the description of the one that he was after. After a minute of awkward silence, the man retreated away from the two, leaving Sherlock alone with the girl he had not seen since his failure match at the bar. He wanted to speak to her, mainly to see if she had spotted the man that he was after. However, it was not his only reason for coming over to her. Sherlock Holmes wanted to figure out the one mystery that had completly had him tied up; her name. _

_"Thank you," she whispered under her breath. He simply nodded, removing his arm from around her as she did the same. For some reason however, had liked the way her small arm had felt wrapped around his waist. He shook the feeling out of his mind, as he took her hand and tugged her along to the balcony. Once outside, the two began to speak a little more to each other. "What are you doing here, Sherlock?" she asked, to which he simply turned his back to her, looking at the over view from the restraunt. _

_"I came after the mastermind behind another crime," he replied, pulling out his pipe for a smoke. "I'm quite amazed to see you here," he replied, still trying to figure out her name in his mind. "You know, it would be nice if you just told me what your name was," he stated, giving her a smile. She rolled her eyes at him. _

_"Like I said before, you can figure it out. But until then, you can call me Anne," she replied, stepping closer to him. He simply nodded, gesturing to a bench. They both went and sat down, and Holmes began to ask her if she had seen the man that he happened to be looking for. She nodded in response. "It's the same man that was speaking to me when you spotted me," she replied. Holmes tried to look for him from his spot on his bench, and managed to spot him dancing in the middle of the floor. _

_Holmes turned his attention back to her, knowing that it would be rather obvious that he was going to take the culprit into custody if he just walked into the middle of the dance floor and threw off the party. "Would you care to aid me in a simple manner? All it would require would be a single dance," he stated, and she simply responded with a nod. He took her hand once again, leading her into the center of the floor. They both soon found out that the other was an amazing dancer. Holmes was rather impressed that she was able to keep up with his lead, and was finding himself liking the feeling of her soft skin in his hand, her body gently pressed against his own. He quickly shook the emotions out of his head; he was not one for romance and refused to submit to it. In the middle of the dance, Holmes managed to get close enough to the man that he was after. However, he waited til the end of the song to grab him. When he had finished and handed him over to Lestrade, he went to look for the mysterious green eyed beauty, but found her no where insight. He started back to Baker Street, the events of the night glued forever in his mind. _

"Renee," he whispered softly, placing the glove into his hand. Hopefully, this would be some sort of hint that may try and help him with the case. He doubted that Dartmouth himself was helping Weese, but obviously someone high up in his household was. Sherlock headed back downstairs, wanting to have a word with Dartmouth about the working staff and anyone else that could possibly have gotten into the study and dropped the glove in there. And in which case, he would be one step closer from getting Renee away from Christopher Weese, and ending his latest case work.

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Renee was still inside of the main room, trying to work out what she could fill in for the missing page. She knew almost perfectly what belonged there, but knew that she could not hand Weese the correct work. It would be going against the morals she had been raised with, but after a while, she realized it would just be easier to give into his demands. She shook the thought out of her mind, and continued to work dilligently on the task in front of her. Twice she thought she had heard Weese or one of his followers enter the room, and tried to hide the fact that she had lightly written several ideas on how to mess up the lines more than they already were. She managed to get a grip on her mind, convincing herself to relax and focus. For several hours she wrote out the math and science that needed to be used in order to have something for Weese to try to work with, and she finally decided that she had something nicely written out for him. She knocked on the door, knowing that one of Weese's men had to be stationed out of the door, just to make sure she hadn't tried to escape.

"What is it?" the gruff voice on the other side of the door asked, obviously ignored at the knocking. Renee rolled her eyes on her side of the door. Some people needed to learn to have common deceny, but she figured she should know that no one here would have any. After a moment, she had decided how she was going to reply to his question.

"Tell Christopher," she started, feeling disgusted when she called him by his first name, "that I have managed to fill in his page," she finished, shaking off the feeling that still remained. She heard footsteps retreat from the door, only two be followed by several pairs of footprints, before the door handle started to turn. She stepped back as it opened to Weese and a few of his men. He had a satisfied smile on his face as he stepped into the room. His eyes fell upon Renee, and he walked over to her, taking her into his arms.

"I knew you could do it for me, my dear," he whispered onto her lips, kissing her passionately. Renee felt him start to feel her up, and felt like trying to push him away. However, she knew he would grow suspicious if she did; as she had seemed to willingly fill out the page for him. He slid his tongue into her mouth for a moment, and then pulled away, the smile still on his face. He wrapped his arms around her shoulder blades as he picked up the notebook and gave it to his men. "Begin working on this," he stated, before starting to lead Renee out of the door. "Come along, my love, you shall dine with me tonight, and then you can go to a proper bed for your sleep tonight," he stated. Renee could tell that he was rather pleased with her, but in the pit of her stomach she worried of the consequences to come for doing the page completly wrong.

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Hit that lil green button? You know you want to!


	7. Chapter 7

**AN: Yay! You guys rock! Only 10 more reviews til 100! **

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**Chapter 7:**

Holmes had retaken his position in front of Dartmouth. His hand was inside of his pocket, keeping a small grip on the silky, silver glove. As hard as he tried to discpline himself, he couldn't help but to keep his hand on the small reminder of Renee. He could feel Watson's eyes over him, trying to figure out what he was doing. A low, unheard groan came out from Sherlock, knowing that the doctor would use this for his own entertainment and revenge at a later time. Nothing irritated him more than when Watson tried to, or successfully, return the taunting. Refocusing himself on the case, he opened his mouth to speak, only to find himself be interrupted by a new set of feet entering the room. All eyes turned onto the figure. It was another man, who was no older than Watson and him. He wore pants that were splashed with several, almost unnoticable specks of green mold, which didn't go unmissed by the detective. He was bigger than both Sherlock and Watson, in both height and body mass. When Holmes realized Dartmouth didn't seem disturbed by the presence of the newcomer, he deducted that it was someone trusted by the retired scientist.

"Bart," Diana said, with a somewhat sour tone in her voice. Holmes turned around to face Diana for a moment, trying to figure out why she would rather not have his presence in front of her. He had figured out at this point that Bart was actually Bartholomew Dartmouth. It was obvious that Diana would rather not have his presence in front of her, but it remained a mystery to him as to why. He watched as Bart remained unphased by Diana's hard glare. Obviously, he didn't care what she thought of him, which seemed to play as an off factor to Holmes, since he had been told that the two families were rather close.

"Come, sit with us Bart," Dartmouth invited, gestering to one of the open chairs of the room. However, Bart's dark blue eyes remained locked with Sherlock's black ones, as if he were trying to throw off his train of thought. It didn't take Holmes long to break through the barrier that the younger Dartmouth had tried to set up; easily figuring out what the young man's motives were. He watched as Bart continued to keep his silence and walk out of the room. Dartmouth let out a disapproving sigh at the behavior of his son. "Do excuse his manners, Mr. Holmes, he doesn't respond very well to guest."

"It is nothing," Holmes replied, pulling the glove out of his pocked. Dartmouth stared at it, clearly clueless of it's ownership. In one swift movement, he moved the view of the glove to Diana and Watson. Diana sprung out of her seat with one look of it; almost running to grab it from Sherlock. She clung to it as she returned to her seat, as if it were the thin line between life and death. "I found that glove while searching for anything of significant use to this case. It belongs to Miss Renee," he stated, oblivious to Dartmouth's surprised facial expression. "Before you begin to assume anything, all I must have you know is Weese has been trying to set up for your death. I suggest you pack up your things and go on a small trip away from London. Tell no one of your departure or where you are headed," Holmes stated, recieving a nod from Dartmouth. Watson, however, saw that there was more to it then what Holmes was revealing to them at the current moment. The doctor made a mental note to ask his partner about it later.

"I shall take your advice then, Mr. Holmes," Dartmouth replied, getting out of his chair. Sherlock nodded to Diana and Watson, signalling to them that it was time for them to departe back to Baker Street. After a breif farewell, the three started on the trip back to the residence of the duo.

Once back at Baker Street, Holmes somehow managed to pry Renee's glove off Diana, convincing her that it was of crucial need to him. Diana returned to Watson's room, rather worn out from the day. Watson and Holmes returned to the study, where Watson stood across from his partner, who gave no attention to him. Holmes' mind was still on Bartholomew, not recognizing Watson's presence. Once again, the detective was going to keep anything of importance from him, but the doctor refused to settle for it. He had, after all, earlier gotten him to share, and he would do it once more. Even though Sherlock wore an absent minded expression upon his face, it was obvious by the way he was acting that he was trying to deduct something.

"Holmes," Watson started, being ignored completly by his partner. "Holmes," he repeated, with a louder stronger tone of voice. The black eyes of Sherlock's meerly glanced in the doctor' direction for a moment, before returning to the hand which held the glove. Watson sighed, rather irritated. Holmes was acting as if he were bored out of his mind, when there was plenty of work cut out for them.

"Dartmouth's son is our closest link to Christopher Weese," Holmes stated, without taking his eyes of the silver glove. He peeked up to see Watson's response to his announcement, unsurprised to see his partner was shocked by the it. He simply shrugged it off, taking hardly any notice to it. "He had the same mold under his hands and on the tips of his pant legs that was found at the scene of the crime." Watson nodded, unsure of how to reply. His mind was still in awe that one of the scientist's children would be assisting the culprit. "Isn't it obvious to you, Watson? I had been hoping that you had been following me with this," he stated, flipping the glove onto the opposite side. He tried to determine how Watson could miss the obvious. "Weese manipulated him, with a possible offer of a higher status in London once it had been taken over. Thus, he has a sense of loyality to him."

Watson simply nodded in response. His eyes fell onto Holmes' hand. The detective was slowly moving his finger around the outline of the glove. Normally, he would assume that he was trying to get a lead from it, but the action seemed more like a stroke. "What are you doing, Holmes?" Watson asked, causing Holmes' head to shoot up.

"Absolutely nothing of question, Watson," he replied, removing his hand from the outline. "Is there a problem for me trying to find a lead to Weese's location? Or are you just worried it will cut into your time with Miss Diana?" Holmes retoreted, smirking as he saw the glare in Watson's eyes. "I thought so," Holmes finished, returning his eyes to the glove.

"There is nothing going on-" Watson started, only to be cut off by a shake of the head from Holmes.

"Even a blind man could tell there is something romantic going on between the two of you. Do not try and lie your way out of it Watson," he stated, letting out a small chuckle. Watson rolled his eyes at his partner, but knew that there was something, at least on his behalf.

"I just don't want her to feel as if I am using her, Holmes. Her sister is still being held hostage by a man that is obsessed with her. Now is not the time to try and," Watson started, cutting himself short. "And I have no idea as to why I am explaining my motives to you, Holmes. At least I am not the one who is afraid to admit I have emotions," he stated, getting a dumbfounded look from Holmes. "You have had more meetings with Renee then you have told anyone about."

"Honestly Watson, you are grasping at straws here. I am uncapable of loving anyone or anything. And if I was, it would not be the subject in one of my cases," by then, he had once again gone back to moving over the glove with his finger.

"Then explain to me as to why you are stroking her glove," Watson retorted, recieving an eye roll that time from the detective. Watson snickered. This was turning out to be quite entertaining.

"I am trying to find a lead, if you must know," Holmes replied, placing the glove carefully back into his pocket. "Tomorrow we will return to the home of Miss Diana and Miss Renee. I need to re-search the surronding area for a specific type of plant," he replied, getting off of his chair and walking up into his room without another word. Watson remade his sleeping area, and drifted off into his own peaceful sleep.

* * *

Weese sat across the table from Renee, his eyes roaming over her body. He couldn't help but imagine what her body looked like underneath her simple, tight green dress.. However, he knew that even his wildest fantasies would be nothing compared to the real thing. It was so close to his grasp, but yet it was far away from his touch. He motioned for food to be brought into them, and slowly the two started to enjoy their meal. They ate in silence, as she was unsure of what to say, whilst he was too busy conjuring up images of her tender body to fill his mind.

After Weese had seen she had finished, he slowly made his way to her, towering over the back of her chair. "Come along, my love," he started pulling her chair back so she could stand. He took her hand as he lead her out of the dining room. "Come and see your new home. Our home," he said, smiling at the fact. She felt perfect on his arm. She truly was the best arm ornament for him. He gently stroked her hand, moaning at the feeling of her soft skin. He knew the rest of her body would be just as soft, if not more.

Soon, he reached the last room in the hall. He gently opened the was a single bed, with a small wardrobe next to it. "Go ahead and change into a nightgown, my dear," he smiled, leaving her to be alone in the room. He smirked as he saw a small hole in the door and looked through it. He had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from moaning while he watched her; or what he could see of bare body was simply beautiful. He moved his head as he saw her return to the door.

"Sir, where am I to sleep?" she asked, looking around the dark hall. Weese smirked, as he gently swooped her up into his arms. She froze as the situation dawned on her. This was his bed chamber, and he was prepared to take her to it.

He gently laid her on the bed, smiling at her perfect body. The nightgown was of light, somewhat revealing material. Her body laid on his bed, prepared for him to enjoy. Renee only tensed more, wanting to push him as far away from her as possible. Soon she found his body lying between her legs, smiling as he slowly moved his hands down her hips. "Since you were a child I watched you and knew I would someday have you. And at long last my moment has come," Weese growled as his lip curled with pleasure at the thought of finally taking her and forcing her to become his. "I've thought so long of how I will take you. I had planned to wait until we were legally wed, but your warm, pulsating body below me is much to tempting not to enjoy it and savor the feel of your skin. I do think I will enjoy it more and feel much more satisfaction though, by saying to hell with morals and following temptation," he finished, trailing his hand up her stomach and running his fingers lightly over the thin material stretched over her breasts.

Renee tensed at his words, quickly trying to find a way out of his plan. She knew that running wasn't an option, as he would just get her once more and probably make the situation worse. "Christopher," she started slowly, feeling sick at the use of his first name, "this act is unvirtuous. I ask of you, wait until we are married. If you love me at all, as I believe you do, you will have the courtesy to wait until our wedding night."

"Now, now my love. Don't you reckon I've waited long enough for this? For you?" he asked, with a small pout playing on his lips. He wanted nothing more than to rip her nightgown off her and run his mouth and lips over every inch of her body, claiming each part as his. His hand slowly started to trail up and down her thigh, moaning at the feeling of her gentle, soft skin underneath his own. He heard her whimper underneath him, which only caused him to stroke more, dragging his nails down them. She moaned simply, trying to recompose herself. However, he was enjoying the reaction he was recieving. Somehow, she managed to grab his hands out of her dress, slowly placing them on either side of her face. She gently pushed up and kissed his lips gently. He moaned as she kissed him, sagging into her arms. She increased the passion of it, sliding her tongue into his mouth. Once she had enough power over him, she slowly pushed him onto his back, moving onto his chest. She continued to kiss her for a moment, before she moved out of the bed, moving to the floor in a kneeling position.

"Christopher, all I ask of you is that you have a little more patience. The moment we are married, I will deny you my body no longer. I just ask you to have respect of my reputation and wait until the day comes," she stated, feeling an awful, disgusting feeling in the pit of her stomach as she said, "when I become Renee Weese." She felt like letting out a disgusted moan, but knew that would just lead him to finishing what he had attempted to start.

Weese sneered down at Renee kneeling before him. She looked good in that position. Submissive. And her name joined with his, well it just about undid him then and there. "That day will come my dear. And until then I will vow not to deflower you, my little bud. But this does not mean you shall not share my bed." Renee looked up to him, a confused expression spread over her face. He slid off his shirt, before pulling her back onto the bed. "You shall sleep with me, but I will honor my vow," he stated, lying on his back.. He gently tore off the sleeves of her nightgown, exposing her arms to him. He smiled as she laid her head on his chest, with one of her hands ending up on his thigh. Her touch was everything he had hoped it would be. "Sleep, my dear," he stated, slowly trailing his fingers up and down her sides. Renee closed her eyes, slowly drifting off. Weese smiled to himself when she did, softly kissing her hair.

_Renee stood in the midst of a large group of people, trying to find her way to a smaller, unpopulated area. She had no idea as to the reason she was at this social gathering, as she never went to any. Especially when Diana was off with other plans. She sighed to herself, wishing to go home. However, she had had a good feeling about that night, and knew that she needed to say. She saw Lord Anderson headed towards her. She let out a soft moan. He was always trying to get her hand, just so he could have money to boost his gambling problem. _

_"Miss Renee," he started, eyeballing her up and down. She gave him a small glare in return. Soon, he had her locked in the same old conversation, only this time he was spilling out empty threats. She sighed, rather annoyed, until she felt someone come up next to her. She smiled to herself when she saw it was none other than the detective, Sherlock Holmes._

_Under the light of the moon, Sherlock looked more handsome then she remembered from the night at the bar. His well built body was outlined by his suit, which brought out the deep shade of black that his eyes were. She forced the thoughts out of her head. After all, he was Sherlock Holmes. He would never notice her, at least not in a romantic way. She knew his attitude when it came to emotions. It was scribbled in with everything else that she knew about his reputation. She sighed, still wondering what it would feel like to be in his arms. When he asked her to dance, even though it was to help with his case, she couldn't refuse._

_She smiled lightly as she moved more into him. Even though she was trying to help him before an act, it had to have been the best dance of her life. When the music ended for that dance, he pulled away and grabbed the man he had came after. She waited for his return, but it never happened. Just as the party was almost over, she saw him making his way out, and tried to call out to him. "Sherlock!" she said loudly, but he didn't hear her. She tried to run after him, but was caught in another crowd of people. "Holmes!" she yelled again, hoping that he had heard her. He turned around, and she knew he had. However, she was too lost in the crowd for him to see her. She sighed, giving up in the attempt to speak to him before their departure. _

Weese was gently sliding his fingers up and down Renee's arms when he heard her start to moan. At first, he thought it was in pleasure to his touch, and he smirked to himself. Suddenly, he heard her start to mumble a name. The first time it was hardly audible, and he began to let it slide. Just as he was about to drift off into his own sleep, he heard her say the name again. A man's name. And not just any man. "Holmes!" he heard her cry, as if she were desperate to get to him. He felt his face turn red with a dark burn, his blood boiling inside of him. He let out a low growl as her voice echoed "Holmes" in his head.

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Hit that lil green button? You know you want to!


	8. Chapter 8

**AN: 102 Reviews! You guys rock my world. Keep 'em coming, they are very much appreciated. Let's see if we can get between 115-120 reviews for this chapter :). Special thanks to ****PhoenixCrystal for being the 100th reviewer!!!**

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**Chapter 8:**

Weese had stayed awake the entire night, never once getting her voice out of his head. How dare she do this to him. He had done nothing to deserve her sneaking around on him. In fact, he had even made a vow to her to wait until they were wed to take her. And yet, she repaid him by calling out to another in her sleep. Once he heard movement outside of the door, he knew it was time to start work for the day. He shook her awake, somehow containing his anger. "Good morning, my dear," he said, continuing to stroke her arms. Renee whimpered as his fingers slowly started to press into her skin. She heard a sick chuckle errupted from his chest as he started to drag his fingers down her arms. He gently trailed kisses down from her earlobe to her shoulder blade, before biting into her shoulder. After a moment he pulled away, leaving a dark, deep bruise. She whimpered once more, before he finally went back to simply holding her. His hands, however, roamed the area that they could reach. Renee tried to push him away, put he just took a tight hold of them. "Now, now, my dear. Let me finish," Weese whispered into her ear, growling lowly. His hands slid down to her hips, whilst his lips gently moved up into her hair.

Just before he went to roam his hands once more, there was a knock on the door. Renee let out a sigh of relief, whih did not go unnoticed by Weese. He let out a snarl, which caused Renee to freeze in her place. Weese smirked, glad that she was behaving to some extent."Sir, your meal is ready," said a low, rough voice. Weese picked Renee up once more, placing her in front of the wardrobe. He handed her a dress, one that he knew would work out perfectly for what he had planned for her later on. Renee looked over it, already knowing that it would shape out her body for his liking. He smiled as her face fell more.

"Wear this and meet me in the dining hall," he whispered into her ear, kissing her passionately before he walked out of the room. Renee followed his orders, trying to pinpoint the reason why he was about to break his vow. Once the dress was on her, she confirmed the reason for his selection. The light, green material brought out the color of her eyes, making them a deeper shade of green. The material was loose, but revealing. It fell around her curves, outlining her body perfectly. She knew he would enjoy every moment of it, as well as be imagining what would lie underneath. "The sick bastard," she muttered to herself, before walking out of the room. She took her time getting to the dining hall, as she saw no reason to quickly return to being Weese's play toy.

When she reached the dining room, she saw Weese standing with his back to her, a long, iron brander in his hand. He gave her a smile once he had turned around, leaving the brander against the wall. "How well did you sleep last night?" Renee asked, taking a seat at the table. She watched as his face begin to grow a hard, cold glare. She tried not to grow a feeling of panic, or at least not show it to him. He walked around the dining hall, not saying a word. Renee shifted herself in the seat, playing with the napkin that was placed in front of her.

He opened his mouth to speak to her, his back to her. "I had the displeasure of hearing you call out a name in your sleep last night," he started, low, still hearing her voice ehco throughout his head. "Might I inquire were you dreaming of? Nothing too daunting I hope." He moved over to Renee, towering over her. He was prepared to figure out why she had called out to Holmes and to take whatever means necissary. He saw her begin to think deeply about the matter, as if she had no idea what he was going on about. He bit back a snarl, deciding to wait a moment to see if she responded properly.

"Nothing of consequence," Renee replied, automatically knowing why he was angered. Her mind slowly began to panic, worried of whathe would do to her. She knew there wasn't any real harm to what she dreamed about, however he would not see that. All that he was going to see from it was that she was dreaming of another man, when she was supposed to belong on his arm. She tried to decide how best to get him off of the subject, but nothing ever came to her. Weese's hand came to the back of her head, running his fingers down her black, silky locks. For a moment, Renee began to wonder if he had actually believed it was nothing. She looked up into his hard eyes and knew it wasn't the truth. Her body tensed, trying to figure out why he was prolonging the silence.

Weese let out a chuckle, startling Renee. He let out another as he realized that he was trying to keep himself from lashing out at her. "So I am just to forget your calling out to another man while you lay in bed with me?" he retorted sourly. He was slowly beginning to lose the handle that he had on his temper. He grabbed the back of her head tightly, keeping her from moving anywhere. He made sure that her eyes never broke contact with his.

"What name do you believe I called out?" Renee questioned, trying to buy herself time. If she could think of a good enough lie, there would be a small chance that he would let it pass. However, the hard glare in his eyes was telling her otherwise. He threw her faceforward into the table, before letting her sit up once again. She winced, trying not to show him the effect that he wanted out of her. He however, clearly saw through her act, smirking with success.

"I do not believe to have heard anything. I quite clearly heard you cry out to Holmes!" he thundered, completly losing it at her denial. Renee winced at the the tone of his voice. He snarled, grabbing her shoulders. He forced her to her feet, pushing her back against the table. She began to slowly tremble in fear, worried out what his temper would result with. Renee froze once more, trying to figure out a way from Weese's vice grip. As if her face read her thoughts, he grabbed her shoulders tigheter, even more angered with her.

Renee stiffined. "I am acquanited with no Holmes," she started, trying to find strength against him. He didn't seem to believe her, and raised his hand as if to slap her when she continued. "I have danced once with the annoying detective, Sherlock Holmes. But I doubt that any dream I had would be about him," she replied, keeping her eyes locked with his. Renee could sense that her voice was wavering, yet he seemed to be unphased by it. He let go of her shoulders, and Renee went to let a sigh of relief out when he walked over to the brander once more.

Weese picked the brander up, making a fist around the handle. He twirled it around, pushing the tip of it into a pile of hot coals. "You deny any knowledge of your dream last night?" he asked, recieving no response. He growled, pushing the tip deeper into the fireplace, twirling it so the heat spread over the bottom portion. "Well, we shall see if that's the truth or not. And what better way than branding you as my property?" he snarled, pulling the poker out of the pit, making his way back over to Renee.

At this point, Renee was completly frozen in place. "Christopher, I assure you, there was no meaning to the dream," her voice cracked, showing that she was petrified of what was about to happen. He smirked, enjoying having a hold of fear over her. He grabbed her in one hand, smirking as she remained frozen. Her eyes trailed down to the tip, where the initials "CW" sat on the tip. She refused to show any emotion, trying to break his hold over her.

He applied more pressure to her shoulder. "It certainly did not seem that way," he snarled, spinning her around onto her stomach. He pushed her into the table, holding her arm at a painful angle. "Now if you tell me the truth, perhaps I won't brand you after all," he whispered into her ear, gently running his fingers behind her ear. Renee stayed there, trying to decide if she should tell him or not. However, she knew what type of man he was, and knew she was better off trying to convince him that there was nothing to be told.

"There is nothing to tell!" she screamed, wanting the torture to end. Renee tried to gether herself, but found the attempt useless. She trembled under the pressure of his grip. His hand ripped the back of her dress, exposing a nice piece of skin to him. She whimpered as he moved the brander just above her shoulder blade, ready to use it when he saw necissary. "There is nothing to tell," she cried out, only to have Weese laugh at her agony.

"You deny it like Peter denied Christ. For that, I will purge you," he replied, cold and unphased. He pressed the poker against her back, hearing her crying out in pain. His free hand scratched the remainding skin that wasn't being burned from the heat. Her skin sizzled, causing her to let out another cry of agony. Tears began to swell in her eyes, but she refused to let them fall from her eyes. After the sizzle had become unaudible for him, Weese pulled up off of her back. He smirked at the mark. He may have not take her to bed yet, but she was still his property nonetheless. It was deep and a dark shade of red, forming out a perfect outline of his initials. Even her skin wore a reminder of him perfectly. "Much better," he smirked. He threw the brander back onto the floor, twisting her to face him once again. He smirked bigger at her tears, glad to know that he had caused her pain for her disobediance. "Now, do you still deny your dream?" he inquired.

"You want the truth, weasel? The truth is, my heart belong to someone else," she finished, growing a smirk on her face as his vanished. Just as she did, Weese's hand came aross Renee's face, causing a sharp sound to echo through the room. Renee didn't break her hard phase, knowing that if she did he would once again gain the upper hand. She had allowed him to take control over him once, and refused for that to happen again.

He took a tighter grasp of both her shoulder, shaking her. "Your heart belongs to no one besides me!" he yelled. His face was a deep shade of red, and she figured that he was a movement away from completly losing it. At this point, however, she didn't care what he did to her, so long as he knew he didn't scare her any longer. Renee snickered, spitting in his face. Weese growled, and in once swift movement, threw Renee to the ground. Her head collided with the ground, and she bit her lip in order to keep from screaming out in pain. This time, it was Weese's turn to snicker.

"If only you had learned to behave by now, my dear," he stated, moving directly over her. His boot connected with her side, causing her to finally to react to his torture. He bent down to a lower position, pulling her up by her hair. "I guess I will just have to teach you myself," he said, yanking her up higher. His eyes roamed her body quickly, and he shook his head with disappointment. "How I hate to hurt such a beautiful, well developed body. Yet, you must learn, so the bruises will be worth it my pet," he whispered onto her lips, before kissing her hard. He smacked Ren"ee again, before turning it into a much worse beating. "And, we will just have to see if anyone wants you when I am done," he added, ripping her dress a slight bit more. He bit down into her bare skin, leaving several more deep, dark purple bruises. He saw Renee trying not to cry, obviously humiliated and in pain. He laughed. He continued to abuse her, finally breaking her. The tears flowed down freely off her face, and he picked her up into his arms. Gently, he craddled her in his arms, causing her more pain as his hands gently pushed down on the bruises. "Will you disobey me anymore, Renee?" He recieved a shake of head. He smiled, brushing away her stray hairs. "Good girl, then I won't have to hurt you again," he smiled, kissing her hairline. His lips started towards her neck.

Suddenly, a new voice made Weese pull away from Renee's soft neck. "Sir, everything is in place for the next death," she heard Weese chuckle, a pleased look starting to ease over his face. The man walked out of the room, as Weese made her stand on her own. However, she couldn't and fell right back into his arms. He supported her for a moment, before forcing her to rise once more.

"Go and clean yourself up, my pet. Your coming along to see what happens to those who tried to step down on me," he smirked, watching her stumble to walk with amusement. He decided he would give her one last blow to the gut before leaving her alone until they left. "This murder will almost be as entertaining as the night I murdered your father," he laughed as she froze, before all but running out of the room.

* * *

Holmes stood in the garden outside of Diana's home. He seemed to be searching for something with diligance, yet there was something about the matter that seemed off to Watson. After a while, he began to doubt if Holmes truly had a reason for them being out in the middle of the day, doing absolutely nothing. Watson watched as he sniffed every single leaf on the plants, as if he were enjoying the scents. "Holmes," Watson started, getting Holmes to actually look up at him the first time, "what are you doing?" he asked, stepping towards his partner. "What on earth could possibly be wrong with the plants?" Holmes stood up straight, pulling one of the leaves off of the plant he had been looking at last.

"This is a tea leaf, origin Southern China," Holmes said, placing it into Watson's hand. "Now, there is something abnormal about the one that I found examining Renee's glove," he added, starting to pulling the tissue out of his pocket. He pulled the second leaf out, placing it next to the first. Watson looked astonished over it. The second leaf was the same size and shape, yet the texture was completly off. Yet, the texture went unnoticed by Watson.

"So you think Weese has imported tea?" Watson asked, giving Holmes a look of confusion. Holmes groaned, picking up both of the tea leaves as he walked back over to the plant. "Honestly Holmes, I don't see what the problem is with a man ordering tea from China," he added, starting to follow his partner back to the plant. He could hear Holmes grumbling something underneath his breath, but couldn't make out what exactly. "Holmes?" he asked, trying to figure out why Holmes had gone back to absent mindedly playing with the leaves of the plant.

"Weese has added some type of drug to the plant that I pulled out of my pocket," Holmes started, walking around to the back of the garden area. "You see, the texture is more lumpy then the soft, nearly flat texture of the untainted ones. Now, if we use our logic in the matter, then we know that they have been messed with. Age would have no effect, as would anything else that would appear to be correct in the first thought. Stepping outside the area of comfort, we draw a reasonable conclusion," Holmes finished, looking out towards the front of the house. "The tea leaves are helping with the murders. Our job is to figure out which role they are playing," Holmes finished, headed back towards the front of the house. "Our friend, Mr. Dartmouth should be able to aid us in the matter," he added, leading the two back towards Baker Street. "But first, we must get a few things before we head off in that direction."

* * *

Weese crept into the home of Sir Alexander Dartmouth, his hand cupped around Renee's mouth. He had only taken two men with him, seeing no reason as to why he would need anymore. He left one outside the house with the cart, ready for their quick escape from the home. Renee wasn't bothering to struggle against him, as she had froze the moment she recognized the home she had been dragged inside. Once inside, Weese crept inside one of the bedrooms, where a tall, hooded figure stood awaiting for him. "Ah, my good man," he stated, tossing Renee to his grip, "hold my pet while I make sure everything is truly set up properly," he stated, walking around the room. He smiled brightly when he realized that every thing was in it's proper place. "This is fantastic!" he muttered, a tone of cruel happiness plugged in with his voice.

"I am glad it is, sir," the man replied, maintaing his grip on Renee. Her face had gone pale when she heard the voice. She had recognized it without a single doubt in her mind of who it could belong to. However, she couldn't figure out as to why he was aiding Weese, especially in this murder. "Would you like her back in your arms?" he asked, as if he couldn't wait to be free of watching her. Weese nodded, taking a tight hold on Renee once more.

"Soon, Dartmouth will be staggering up the stairs, withering in agony. You, my dear, shall aid me in this murder as well," he said, pulling out a small bottle from his pocket. He placed it gently into her hands. "He trusts you, and in as much pain as he is, will never once question why you are in his house. You shall help him drink it and then return to my arms and watch the effects it has on him." Renee looked up into Weese's eyes, just about ready to tell him that she refused to be a part of this murder. Weese's lips found their way quickly to Renee's ear. "If you fail to do so, my next victim will be your sister, and I will make sure she suffers more than any of the others." Renee nodded at this, and Weese pulled away, standing up straight.

Just as predicted, Dartmouth came up the stairs and into his room. Once he reached the center of the floor, unable to move anymore, Renee stepped out with the bottle. Once again, Weese was right. He didn't seem alarmed at all when she stated that she had the only thing that would help him at this point. He downed the entirety of the bottle in the few moments that it took for Renee to go back to Weese's arms. "Too much agony for you yet, Alexander?" he asked, a smirk sketched over his face. He saw that Darmouth's eyes had fixed on Renee. "Yes, doesn't she look lovely on my arm? I told you and Gregory she would, yet you both refused to let me have her."

"And for good reason too!" a new voice boomed, with a strong, angered tone. All eyes turned towards the door, where Diana, Holmes, and Watson now stood, over looking the scene. Weese growled, gripping Renee tigther. He refused to lose her now. Renee tried to struggle against him, wanting nothing more than to run to her sister and be away from him. Her heart skipped a beat when she saw Holmes eyes glued on her as well.

"Well, well, well," Weese started, annoyed, "if it isn't the pathetic excuse for a detective, his loyal dog, and the wench," he sneered, getting a glare from Watson. "I'd hate to be impolite, but I have a date with my pet here, so we will just be on our way. Bartholomew, however, will be enjoying a good few rounds with you," he finished, pulling out his revolver and pointing it at Renee's temple. "Let us pass," he ordered. All three of them listened without needing to be told twice. Weese smirked as he disappeared into the darkness. Holmes soon had knocked out the unhooded man, whilst Watson was fighting him.

"Do you need help?" Was what Watson read from the look Holmes was sending him. Watson shook his head and Holmes ran out of the house after Weese and Renee. Diana was trying to help Dartmouth, having been ordered by Sherlock to stay where she was at if she didn't want to risk her sister. Once Holmes got outside, he found Weese leaning against a carriage, Renee still in his arms.

"The famous Sherlock Holmes," he stated, getting a clearer view of the man. "I thought you'd be taller," he said, letting out a bored yawn. Holmes took a step closer to Renee and Weese, which Weese returned by putting the revolver back at Renee's temple. Holmes froze in place. "Odd, I figured you'd react much differently," he said. Holmes glared, sliding his hand into his coat pocket, fingering his own revolver.

"Give it up, Weese," Holmes started, fixing the gun for usage. Weese shook his head, knowing that there was nothing Sherlock Holmes could do to him that would stop him at this point. "There's no way out of this, and your out of tricks," he finished. Weese returned the comment with a chuckle as his free hand weaved it's way through Renee's hair.

"Oh how wrong you are, Holmes," he replied, fixing his dark, demon eyes with Sherlock's black ones. "I still have many cards up my sleeve," he added, continuing to play with Renee's hair. He growled as he saw that the detective's eyes were on the beauty in his arms, rather than his own. "My Ace hasn't even hit the table yet. And soon," he stopped for a moment, biting and sucking into Renee's kneck. He couldn't help but laugh as Holmes grew a glare on his face at the action, "I'll have my Queen of Hearts. Or rather, your heart," he said, snickering as the world famous detective stood dumbfounded.

"My heart?" Holmes repeated, trying to figure out what he was playing at. Weese rolled his eyes. He had heard about the detective's reputation with love and emotions in general, but he had never believed in it. He waited for a few moments to try and see if Holmes could figure it out, but he failed to.

Weese's yellow teeth showed as he smirked, looking down upon Renee's body. He looked back up at Holmes, moving the gun tip from Reene's temple to her neck. He cocked her neck a bit, showing just enough of the bruises to Holmes. He chuckled as he saw Holmes debating mentally with himself on how to respond. "Yes, Holmes. Your heart," he replied, laughing as Renee trembled against the gun. "Yes, lovely Renee here," he said, smiling cruelly.

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DUN DUN DUN!!!!!


	9. Chapter 9

**AN: Yay! We are at 115. Now, let's see if we can get between 120-130 for this chapter :) Renee/Holmes in this chapter, along with a little Diana/Watson!**

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**Chapter 9:**

Watson had struggled to gain the upper hand while Diana tried to ease Dartmouth's agony. He was going to die if Watson didn't hurry and even then he could still die. Diana saw Watson get thrown against the wall before the hooded figure disappeared. Diana rushed from Dartmouth's side to Watson's, aiding him in his attempt to get off the floor. Watson stopped trying to lift himself up the moment Diana's soft skin touched his. He knew that now was not the time nor the place for romance, but he couldn't help but to love the feeling of her skin against his. He shook the thoughts out of his head, regaining his professional stance. He took her hand, leading her back to where Dartmouth lay on the floor. Diana knew that he only meant to guide her to a proper position, but she loved the feeling of her hand in his.

Gently, Watson had Diana help him lift Dartmouth onto a higher elevation. He had gone from having an obvious fever to dropping incredibly. The scientist was panting as if he couldn't breathe. Watson's eyes connected with Diana's. "Water," he said as Diana quickly rushed down the stairs. Watson began to look him over, failing in his attempt to find what exactly had been done. Diana returned with empty hands. He stared at her, not understanding as to why she hadn't returned with water as he had asked. He shrugged it off, trying to warm up the dying Dartmouth.

The reality of the situation dawned on Diana. Alexander Dartmouth was going to die. The only real help they could recieve from the case, as the other remaining scientist wouldn't be as generous to them, was going to die. If only they had arrived a short time before Weese the cards might be turned. Now, Weese had committed another murder and may still end up getting away with her sister. Watson stepped away from Dartmouth as the man's heart ceased to beat. He saw the tears in Diana's eyes and gently took her into his arms. Diana's face burried itself in Watson's chest, pushing back the tears that threatened to come out of them. "We...we...we should go assist Holmes," she whispered into him, trying to hide the sadness in her voice. Watson gently stroked her hair hoping to make her feel safer.

"In a moment," he replied, keeping Diana locked in his arms. He knew how death could cause people to react. And being a doctor, he knew that she would be of no help to anyone if he allowed her to run out. Being a doctor, he knew it would be a mistake to leave her in such a state. He knew Holmes could handle things himself. Or so he thought, as it was usually the case with his partner. Little did he know that this wasn't like the other times.

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Holmes stood in shocked silene. Nothing escaped his lips. There was no possible way she had a hold over his heart. "Come, come Holmes, it's quite obvious you have feelings for her," he let out a chuckle as Holmes' eyes moved off Renee to connect with his. "Feelings you shall never get to have reciprocated. She's mine. Always has been, always will be," he finished, a smirk spread across his face. Weese smirked as he repositioned the frozen Renee, holding her against him with the gun rather than his arm. He pulled back the trigger, as if he had decided to let the beauty die right then. Holmes stiffened, as if using all of his strength not to scream 'no' at the action. Weese chuckled, pointing the gun to the ground and letting the trigger go. Renee trembled at the sound. Weese's mouth found her ear once more. "It's alright, my love. I won't harm you," he whispered, kissing her ear before standing up straight once again.

Shaking his head, Holmes said, "You are mistaken. Yes, she is beautiful and any man would desire her-" Holmes stopped, realizing what he had just voiced. Weese now had a twisted grin sketched over his face. His eyes blocked out Weese, searching for Renee's green ones. They appeared to be broken, but not surprised at what he had been saying. Holmes mentally cursed at himself. He hadn't given much thought into a response, and now had made Renee seem like an arm ornement. He could hear Weese's cruel chuckle, obviously pleased with what he had said. Holmes knew it had been the perfet tool to use, he just hoped Renee wouldn't listen to whatever Weese came up with.

Weese looked down at Renee. "See, my love, he does not love you," he started, pronoucing each word. Holmes could see the effect that the words had over Renee, even if Weese could not. He growled lowly, waiting for the right moment to shoot his own revolver. "He only desires you for what your good for. Which isn't much, wouldn't you agree, Sherlock?" he smirked when his eyes found the detective's hard glare. "To think, you denied me your body because of a man who sees you as nothing more than an arm toy," he laughed, feeling Renee sink more into herself against him. He saw Holmes' hand fiddling in his pocket, automatically knowing that the younger man had his own gun in the pocket of his jacket. He sniggered, using the action to his advantage. "See, Renee. He fixes his own gun, ready to end your life. If only you behaved properly in bed with actions, instead of using your tongue, perhaps men wouldn't feel the need to rid you of existance." Holmes glare hardened deeper, to which Weese only continued to chuckle. Renee's eyes held tears in them, which refused to slip down her face.

Renee slowly looked up at Holmes, trying to blink back whatever tears had grown in her eyes. Her green eyes locked tightly with his black ones. She had known better than to allow herself to fall in love with Sherlock, yet her emotions had over powered her. Part of what Weese was telling her was a lie, she could tell that much clearly. He knew her feelings would never be returned and was using it to break right through the struggles she had been putting up. Even she knew that she had handed her heart into the hands of the only man who would never feel anything for her. However, something in in the way he reacted spoke differently. Something in his eyes told her that Weese was wrong about everything. It was almost as if, for a breif moment, Sherlock Holmes was an entirely different character. That the detective was a man who did reciprocate her feelings. But that feeling only lasted for a moment. Renee broke eye contact, having found the strength to use her voice. She looked directly up at the dark man holding her, and with a strong tone said, "I may never be in his heart or mind, but you will never be in mine either," she spat. Weese growled, noticing that her focus had returned to the man standing in front of them.

Renee's eyes had returned to Sherlock's the moment she had finished speaking. Holmes eyes' spoke words to her, giving her more strength than she had felt in a long time. Perhaps it was just her mind playing tricks on her, but she didn't care. Her mind was in a completly different world, leaving behind the fact that Weese was still holding her at gun point. It was just her and Holmes, locked in a stare. Her mind flashed back to the day she had seen the prosecution of one of the criminals he had caught, the last time she had seen him before now. She nearly let her entire mind go off into another memory, when she felt the cold metal remove itself from her throat as a gun shot filled the air.

Unbeknownst to Holmes and Renee, who were busy exchanging unspoken words between themselves, Weese had pulled the gun away from Reene's neck. A low, cruel chuckle came from his lungs as he refocused the target of the bullet. Releasing the trigger, the sound of the bullet was followed by the sound of a contacted hit. The victim of the shot let out a small whimper, obviously trying to hide how much pain it had caused. "Sherlock!" Renee screamed in terror as the detective fell to his knees, blood from his right shoulder slowly began to stain his shirt. Renee managed to pull away from Weese and run to Holmes' side. She held his body in her arms, their eyes automatically connecting. Holmes went to tell her to run but couldn't find his voice. In a matter of seconds, his eyes began to flutter close from loss of blood. "Watson!" Renee screamed as loud as she could. They were at least a hundred feet from the house, she could only pray that the doctor heard her scream. Weese chuckled at her failed attempt. His smirk grew as Holmes' face grew pale while his blood oozed onto Renee's skin.

"I'll let my pet hold you in death, Holmes," he said, smirking at Renee's glare. He could tell that she was struggling not to cry. "But know that your death is my wedding present to my bride," he chuckled as Renee tore the sleeve of her dress, trying to stop the blood from leaving Sherlock's body. He didn't care if he lived or died, he only wanted Renee to run and get Watson to him. However, he couldn't find his voice. His eyes began to shut as Renee's resistance from crying broke. For some reason, he took a strong hold of her hand, as if she would be the one to keep him from death. As if she could protect him. His last thought was hoping that this simple wound would not be the end of him.

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A gun shot filled the air. Both Watson and Diana froze, afraid to find out who had just been shot. Shortly following the gun shot, they heard a woman's voice scream "Sherlock" in panic and terror. Watson paled. The pair knew that it had been the detective to recieve the blow. Watson pulled away from Diana, grabbing his gun off the floor. He ran out of the house as quickly as he possibly could, praying the wound wasn't fatal. Most of the time, Sherlock Holmes annoyed him, but the arragont detective was the closest thing he had to family. As a doctor, his mind told him to remain and focus on aiding his patient. As a friend, his mind was completly filled with panic. He heard his name be shouted, knowing that Renee was hoping he would come at her call. This only made the doctor run faster than he thought was possible. Diana had followed him, having ripped a piece off of the curtains to wrap whatever area Holmes had been wounded in.

Weese stood against one of the trees, highly amused at Renee's attempts to awake the detective. Just as he figured Sherlock Holmes had met his death, he saw two figures coming towards Renee and Holmes. He growled knowing all too well who it was. He quickly headed to yank Renee away from the dying detective. When he tried to pull Renee up and away, she only held tighter to the man she loved. "No!" she screamed, not wanting to release Sherlock from her arms. Growling, Weese kicked Renee in her side, causing her grip to loosen on Holmes. Weese yanked her up by her hair, replacing her in his arms. He saw his carriage out of the corner of his eye, quickly moving over to it. He threw Renee inside before getting inside of it himself. The carriage started to pull out of sight just as Diana and Watson go to Holmes.

Holmes' face was completly pale as Watson picked him off of the ground. Frantically, the doctor started to search for his wounded friend's pulse. Even in the dark, Watson could tell by the amount of blood that now covered Holmes that the wound was deep. However, he couldn't tell if if was fatal or not. And if it wasn't, could it still take the detective's life? After a few moments, Watson hadn't made much progress. Diana had wrapped up Holmes' shoulder, preventing any more blood from escaping his body. She saw Watson's face fall. The doctor still couldn't find a pulse.

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Dun...dun...duuuuuuuuuuuuuuun!


	10. Chapter 10

**AN: You guys are truly amazing. I'm grateful for all of your reivews, makes me feel special. Some Watson/Diana in this chapter, along with some friendshipy Watson/Holmes in Watson's perspective. Now, skipping over anything else I could say, let's just get to our dearly beloved detective..Be warned, it is a short chapter and you may want some tissues.**

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**Chapter 10:**

Doctor John Watson had seen several deaths happen in front of his very eyes. He had seen his comrades die in the war. Several times, he had lost a good friend on the battlefield. Yet, none of those deaths, or near death experinces, had ever held such an affect over him. Sherlock Holmes was either dead, or close enough to death that he would fail to show a pulse. When he had first reached his partner, his skin still held some color in it, with laboured breathing present. Within moments, the color had vanished and breathing had stopped. As a doctor, his mind tried to focus on trying to save Sherlock. As a friend, his mind was completly torn apart. His comrade, his friend, his brother laid dying in his arms. His head pounded, trying to decide on which instinct to play off of. Discipline told him that if he wanted Holmes to have any chances, that he had to relie upon his skills as a doctor. However, he could not find the strength to do so. Almost ready to fall upon his fear, Watson felt a gentle hand placed on his shoulder. The feeling of Diana's soft, small hand on his shoulder help him regain his doctor composure. Attempting at his best to keep the tears locked away behind his eyes, he looked up into Diana's sky blue ones. A calm feeling came across him as he glued his eyes onto hers for a moment.

Both knew they would have to take Holmes to the hospital, but they had no means of transportation. Dianda, however, knew that there was no chance Watson could assist Holmes due to his bad leg. standing, she gently lifted the detective off of the ground, placing his left arm around her neck. Watson stood, noticing that his partner's revolver was in his jacket pocket. Carefully, he took Holmes' revolver out from the pocket, placing it in Diana's free hand. Diana let out a stumble due to the weight that Sherlock's body was putting on her shoulder. Watson saw this and helped her reposition the detective, before the two started down towards the main road. Watson pulled out his own revolver, knowing that he clearly needed to be prepared for anything.

Looking at the detective's face, Watson suddeny felt himself tremble. He knew he had never felt this terror before. If Holmes did survive from this wound, he was going to make sure the detective paid for scaring him like this. His eyes looked over to Diana, trying to figure out was to what she was thinking. They had been so close to getting her sister back from the vile Weese. Yet, by the time they had reached Renee and Holmes, it was too late to save her. Watson couldn't help to feel some form of guilt swell up inside of him. Yes, Diana had been upset when Dartmouth had passed, but she was prepared to push away all of those emotions to focus on the case. He had kept her in the room, trying to comfort her. And it had resulted in Holmes getting shot and Renee being pulled away once again. He let out a small sigh as they reached the hospital, hoping that it wasn't too late. Watson pushed out the thoughts about Diana out of his head, planning on asking her how she was feeling after they got Holmes help.

With any other injury the detective had recieved, Watson had easily tended to it. Thus, it felt strange to be the one sitting in a chair waiting on the doctor's to give him results. While the doctor had examined Holmes, Watson remained in the room with his partner. His eyes remained glue on the floor rather than the movements going on, and his head remained hung. Diana had remained in the hall, not wanting to be anywhere near other people. Watson wished she had joined him in Sherlock's room, as he was able to remain calm in her presence. When the surgeon came to pull the bullet out of Holmes' shoulder, Watson was at the point where he could no longer handle what was going on around him. Leaving Holmes in the start of his surgery, the doctor joined Diana out in the hallway.

When he reached the hall, his eyes began to frantically search for the blonde. His mind began to worry when he couldn't find her. Then, he realized that Diana was in a darker corner, holding her knees with her face burried in them. Slowly, he walked down to her. She had fixed his mind state with a simple touch, and now he had to return the favor. His hand gently placed itself on her shoulder, causing her to look up into his eyes. Gently, Watson placed a supporting hand around Diana's shoulders. She was grateful for the unspoken actions of comfort that the doctor was giving to her. Wiping her tears, she gave Watson a small smile, hoping that she would in turn break some worry in his mind.

"I'm sorry," she apologized, trying to make her voice sound strong. However, it came out squeaky, low, and powerless. He only gave her shoulder a gently squeeze, trying to comfort her. She smiled, slowly moving her hand up into his. Watson knew that it wasn't a proper time or place, but again he couldn't help but to enjoy the feeling of her skin against his. He sighed to himself. Was there ever going to be a right time to try and win her heart? "If...if I wouldn't have..." Watson knew what point she was trying to get across and gently hugged her.

"It's alright," was all that escaped Watson's lips. Diana moved over in the chair, allowing Watson to sit next to her. He kept his arm around her, gently stroking her arm as the two sat in silence. Diana's head slowly moved onto Watson's shoulder. Silent tears started to pour down their faces, stressed out over the last few hours. Slowly, the pair started to drift off into some type of sleep. For at least an hour, the two stayed resting against the other. The sound of footprints caused both of them to open their eyes once more.

Standing in front of them was a doctor who looked to have grave news to tell them. Watson stood, afraid as to what was going to be told in a matter of moments. Diana remained sitting down on the chair, keeping a hold of Watson's hand. The doctor kept from making eye contact with Watson, and both kenw that what was to be told would be a blow to the heart. Watson's eyes widened as he froze up completly when the doctor spoke a simple, yet painful sentence. "Your friend is dead," he said.

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Yes, evil cliffie, probably the worst one I have left yet. But if you desire to know what I have planned in my evil head, then you must hit that green button.


	11. Chapter 11

**AN: Time to find out what has become of our beloved detective!**

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**Chapter 11:**

_Sherlock Holmes found himself standing somewhere out in the middle of the country. He looked around the estates, trying to figure out where he was. Slowly, he began to realize that he was no where other than his brother Mycroft's country home. He looked around again, trying to figure out why he was there. He hadn't seen or contacted his brother in almost three year. Why he would suddenly be on his property, the detective had no clue. A dream, he figured out after a moment. Sherlock began to advance towards the house, wondering as to why he was dreaming this. The detective figured it was happening for a reason. Perhaps something in the dream would be able to help him with the case. He kept advancing towards the house, yet it seemed to be getting farther away from him which each step he took. Holmes stopped once again, changing direction. He went from walking north towards the house to walking west towards the garden on the side. This time, he made process while he was walking. _'It could have something to do with the tea leaves,_' Holmes thought to himself, as he continued to walk. However, what he was about to see had absolutely nothing to do with his assumption. _

_He saw two people in the garden, their backs to him. One was a male, who looked identical to him. Mycroft, he figured, until he got a glimpse of the second. The other was a female with familiar raven colored hair. 'Renee?' He thought to himself. What could she possibly being doing here? He continued to walk towards the two, when he realized that the male figure was him. Holmes stood frozen for a moment as he watched his dream self gently stroking Renee's arms. Why on earth would he be acting like this? He didn't need a woman's touch to satisfy him, he never had. Yet, there he was dreaming that he was holding her closely to him, obviously savoring the feeling of her soft skin underneath his finger tips. He became more appalled as he saw himself kiss Renee's cheek. Slowly, he began to wonder what it would feel like to have his lips touch Renee's cheek. When he realized what he was thinking, he shook the thought out of his head. _

_Continuing to watch, the things he saw himself do nearly put Holmes into a deep shock. However, the one fact that never went unnoticed was how happy he looked sitting there with Renee. No matter how strange it was to love the feeling of a woman, he seemed to be the happiest he had ever felt in his entire life. And he was starting to like the thought of it. Running his hands freely in Renee's curls, kissing her gently, running his fingers across her soft skin seemed as if it would be a dream come true. He smiled as he saw her turn around in his arms, going to place a gentle kiss on his lips. Just before the kiss happened, he realized how truly out of character he was acting. Yet, he didn't seem to mind whatsoever. A new thought came into his great mind. 'Is it possible that Renee has melted me? Is it possible that Weese was right to say she held my heart?' Looking at himself draw Renee into a kiss, he began to come to terms with the possibility of it being the truth. He heard her whisper "Sherlock" onto his lips. He felt a calming, wonderfully unknown feeling come across him as he heard her say his name. Holmes nearly felt himself shudder in pleasure at the sound of her soft voice rolling his name off of her tongue. It was absolutely, without a doubt perfect. "Renee," he whispered to himself. _

Watson stood in Holmes' room, trying everything he possibly could to prove the doctor wrong. There was no possible way that the detective could be dead. It was unimaginable. Diana had stayed outside of the room, unsure how to deal with the news. Watson had tried to convince her that it wasn't the truth before he rushed into the room, but he doubted that his attempt had worked. The doctor felt his partner's wrist and neck, searching for any sign of a pulse. There was still nothing as there hadn't been before. He felt tears swelling up in his eyes. Sherlock Holmes' face lacked any color at all, with no breathing escaping his body, and no pulse. As much as he didn't want to believe it every fact showed that the detective had lost after all. Watson sat down in the chair next to Holmes' bed, trying to get a grip over himself. He knew that he was going to have to continue the case, but he was unsure he would be able to. Sure, he had done little things without the help of the detective but his learnt skills would never be anywhere close to Holmes'. He felt a tear slowly make its way out of his eye, sliding down his cheek. He was unsure if he could handle the loss of another brother.

Just as all hope seemed to be lost, he heard a small moan breaking the depressing silence in the room. At first, he passed it off as nothing more than his imagination; his hope that the detective would miraculously come back to life. Just as he was about to get up and walk out of the room, he heard the moan once more. He sprung to his feet, checking Holmes' pulse once more. Somehow, he felt a small beat slowly becoming a stronger one. Sherlock Holmes had cheated death once more. He let out a sigh of relief as Holmes slowly began to let out slow breaths. His pulse and breathing rate began to rapidly increase back to normal. Watson sat back down, knowing that it would be only a matter of minutes before the black eyes of the detective opened once more. He couldn't help but to smile happily at the fact. Then a single name spoken broke the silence once more. Watson stared at his partner at shock. Holmes had spoken, but just not any normal name. He had more than clearly whispered "Renee." The doctor smirked to himself after getting over his shock, having figured out that there was more to Holmes' interest in Renee rather than her just being the center of another case.

Watson got up to bring Diana into the room, wanting her to be able to calm down by seeing Holmes alive. They could still solve this case and save her sister. And perhaps after the trauma of everything had died down, he could admit his feelings to her. Diana had ecstatically come into the room, keeping her hand in Watson's as he dragged her to the bed where the detective lay. Just as the two let go of the other's hand, the midnight eyes of Sherlock Holmes popped open.

"Watson," Holmes said, having seen the fact that his partner had just came off of an emotional high, "do try not to cry the next time I get injured. If you hadn't got worked up over such a small wound, you would have noticed that the doctor I was assigned is not the one who walked into the hall," he finished, pushing himself into a sitting position. Watson stared at him, surprised as to his colleagues' first statement. "You would be amazed as to what I can hear in my slumber," he added, shaking his head at Watson.

All Watson could think of in response was to say something along the lines of "And you would be amazed as to what you say in it," but the presence of Diana kept him from doing so. He was about to respond when the door swung open. Bartholomew stood in the door way, a glare upon his face. "If you would have been paying attention, you would have figured out that Bartholomew Dartmouth had taken my doctor's place," Holmes added, nodding to Watson as he pulled his gun out of his jacket pocket.

Bartholomew grew a smirk across his face as he pulled out his own. "You aren't meant to survive this, Mr. Holmes," he replied, fixing his gun to shoot the already wounded detective. The sound of a single bullet escaping a gun let out in the air, as the wounded person well to the ground, grasping and clutching the area in which he had been shot.

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**Sorry if it's a crappy ending, I didn't know how else to end it, and I wanted a cliffie. R&R if you want an update! And sorry it was short again, I promise, I will make it up during the next chapter!**


	12. Chapter 12

**AN: Unfortunately, or fortunately, depending on how you view it, none of you figured out who I shot :). 158 reviews! Keep them coming and I shall keep the chapters coming in return. R&R!

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**Chapter 12: **

Holmes and Watsons' eyes went from looking at the fallen Bartholomew, who was clutching his bleeding leg, up to the each other. They appeared to be shocked, unsure as to who had let out a bullet. Slowly, their eyes moved onto Diana. Sure enough, she held Holmes' revolver in her hand, the smoke coming out of the tip from having just been shot. Her face was hard as stone, yet obviously proud of her excellent aim. Watson stared, impressed. She had the skills of a seasoned soldier. Without needing to exchange word, both Diana and Watson pulled Bartholomew off of the ground, placing him in the open chair for interrogation.

"Where is my sister?" Diana snarled venom in the sound of her voice. Watson and Holmes blinked in silence, astonished by the harsh tone the blonde was releasing. Holmes quickly got over it, smirking at Watson. His partner had picked a good shot, temperamental girl and was completely surprised by it. The doctor felt the smirk, but simply ignored it, moving next to Diana and she punched the younger Dartmouth for not responding. "What has Weasel done to my sister?" she demanded again.

Bartholomew chuckled at Diana's anger. "Well, when I left, Mr. Weese was giving your sister a proper beating," his smirk grew as Diana stepped back from him, her face filled with worry for her younger sister. However, what went unnoticed was the fact that Holmes had completely froze. And the detective was glad it had.

"Where in the central part of the sewers is Weese?" Holmes questioned, finding his voice. He knew that there was going to be no response. However, he also knew more by the odor Dartmouth had brought into the room. Turning towards Watson he said," Have Lestrade come and deliver him into his new home." Watson responded with a nod of the head before walking out of the room to have the message taken to the Scotland Yard. "Your attempt to hide your boss is useless, as you should know. By the simple scent you give off, I can tell that you are near the waters, working with a rare species of fish, which is how you have created your poison. What is hidden is how you finished Sir Alexander Dartmouth, your own father, as the velkyn ogglin is only meant to paralyze the victim." He saw Bartholomew's facial expression tug up into a sicker smile. He knew perfectly well that he wasn't going to get an answer out of him.

The room was sat still in silence until Lestrade showed up with some of his men. After Bartholomew had been removed from the room, Lestrade lingered behind for a few moments, taking the seat that had recently been emptied. Watson stood against one of the tables, Diana next to him. Lestrade stared at Holmes as if he was standing in the presence of a ghost. "I heard you were dead," he said simply, standing up at this point. Watson and Holmes shared a look.

The only thought in Holmes' mind was wondering how news travelled so quickly at this time of the night. "As you can tell Lestrade, I am clearly not. You would be at loss without me," he replied, chuckling at the glare that threatened to form in the inspector's eyes. "I do have one thing to say before you go. Make sure you guard your new prisoner well. His boss will surely come for him." Holmes turned back to Watson the minute Lestrade had exited the room. "Now, I will rest so we can return to the case tomorrow," said Holmes, lying down on his hospital bed.

Watson shook his head. "Explain as to how you knew all of this when you had no pulse and there was clearly no air escaping and entering your body," he stated. Holmes chuckled, sitting back up. He knew that Watson would be interested in the medical mystery he had presented. His partner always wanted to understand things in his field of work. Holmes just glanced around the room, keeping his silence for a few moments longer. "Holmes," Watson started, knowing that his colleague needed a long night of rest.

"Elementary," Holmes stated, rubbing his shoulder from where he had been shot. "After the surgeon had left to retrieve the doctor, I laid, to some extent, conscious. I could not, however, see very much, but my hearing was doing rather well. I heard the voice of my surgeon explaining my state to whom I presumed to be a doctor. When I realized that it was not your voice, I listened deeper. The man was clearly faking a Russian accent and when he stumbled with a sentence, I recognized the voice as our friend, Bartholomew. I allowed my body to fall into a deep relaxation so he could not tell that I was awake once entering my room. He injected me with a form of sleeping drug or another, which affected my weak system to show no sign of a pulse alongside breathing," he finished, lying back down on the bed. "Now, if you don't mind doctor, I think I shall rest," he closed his eyes after finishing his sentence, quickly falling back into a deep slumber. Watson and Diana left him sleeping in the chair, heading back to Baker Street for the remainder of the night. Holmes was right. Sleep was going to be needed if they wanted to pick up with their case.

* * *

Weese advanced past the guards he had injected slowly, heading towards Bart's cell after grabbing the keys. He smirked at his assistant, assuming he had done well in his task. "Bart," he said, smirking, unlocking the cell for his assistant to step out of. He overlooked the bandage that was wrapped around his left leg. "Do tell me, what has become of the infamous Sherlock Holmes?" at first, he automatically assumed he was going to receive what he wanted to hear. That the insufferable detective had been finished by the wound; however, his hope was crushed when the other man began to babble.

Without ever once looking Weese in the eyes, he began to tell him the new he had brought. He knew all too well that Weese was the type of man who shot the messenger when he brought nothing but bad news."We may have a problem. The detective, I don't know how it is possible, it's a miracle, really it is!" Bart let out, looking at the floor and trying to prolong the inevitable. Weese growled. He was beginning to grow irritated with the younger man.

"Stop babbling and tell me your news!" Weese shouted, wanting the truth to be told rather than excuses. He gave Bart a hard glare, stopping and refusing to move until he had been told what had happened. He didn't really care if his yelling was heard, knowing that he had enough poison to kill the entire ScotlandYard.

"Holmes...well he isn't in the condition you were hoping," he stumbled, not making eye contact with the pissed Weese. He wasn't looking forward to his boss's reaction to the news he carried. He knew all too well it would not be handle well.

"What is that meant to mean?" Weese knew by then it wasn't going to be well. He tried to maintain his temper. Perhaps it was still looking in their favor, even if the annoying detective hadn't died quite yet. However, his hopes were proved wrong when Bart responded.

"He's, um, well, he's still...alive," Bart muttered, looking at the ground. Weese punched him as soon as the words registered in his head. Bart remained still after being punched; amazed that he hadn't been stabbed or hit more for it. However, he knew that Weese's anger would not seize there.

"How could you allow this to happen!" Weese thundered. "I sent you to make sure he was finished, not to return telling me he was still alive!" He went to give a blow to his assistant, when it dawned on him. Renee still believed the detective was on his way to death. She had no way of finding out that he was still alive. Weese smirked, chuckling. Weese gazed down at his assistant. "Consider yourself lucky that I may be able to use this for my own benefit still. Now get out of my sight before I decide I no longer need an assistant."

* * *

Renee sat in her cage quietly, trying not to wince due to the new bruises Weese had left on her body. She knew that they were coming. Her mind was still in panic, trying to convince herself that Holmes would have survived the shot seemed impossible. Even a man as great as the detective was still a mortal and could die to such a wound. Biting her lip, she silently said a prayer, hoping that God would show kindness at that moment. Renee knew all too well that there would be no hope for her if Weese had managed to kill Holmes. She wrapped her arms around her knees, trying to support herself. At that moment, she wanted nothing to burst into tears, giving into the fear that swelled up inside her heart. Just before she permitted herself to, the door opened, Weese standing in it. She arose, wondering as to what he wanted now. All she could hope for was that he didn't want to beat her again.

Weese strolled in front of the cage he was holding Renee in, a smirk plastered on his face. Renee saw this and her heart started to race with panic, just as he opened his mouth to speak. "My darling, it pains me so much to be the burden of such news to you. Your darling Holmes is dead. Finished. His life has come to an end. He is no more. Which leaves you, my dear, with no hero to save you," Weese smirked, his eyes raking over her body

"No," Renee whispered, feeling the weight of his words crash down upon her. Holmes couldn't be dead. It just wasn't possible. Weese couldn't have finished off someone as great as Sherlock Holmes. She felt tears begin to swell up in her eyes. Her heart raced as his words repeated themselves in her head. One tear slowly crept out of her eye, and didn't go unnoticed by Weese. He smirked until she spoke once more. "You lie," she whispered, looking him straight in the eyes. "Holmes isn't dead, he can't be," she added, angering Weese more. He reached through the bars of the cage and grabbed her shoulders, making her freeze in place.

Shaking her, he said, "The Doctor arrived too late. You weren't able to stop the blood flow quickly enough," he shook her harder, smirking as he saw the fear in her eyes. Renee felt the blame begin to swell up in the back of her head. She wanted nothing more than to cover her ears and tune him out. She loved Sherlock, it couldn't be her fault he was dead. Yet, it was. If it wasn't for her comment, Weese wouldn't have shot the detective in the first place. "Sherlock Holmes is dead and you're the only one at fault for it," he finished, throwing her towards the other end of the cage.

Slowly, Renee began to sink to the floor, sobs of agony escaping her trembling body. She hit the floor in a ball, the tears freely escaping down her cheeks. Weese smirk grew sickeningly at the sound of her agony. It was the perfect revenge for the things she had said to him. After a few moments of watching her break into pieces, he unlocked the door to the cage, stepping inside of it. Forcibly he pulled her off of the floor and into his arms.

"It is a shame that his untimely death came this way, my love. But how about we erase the pain of it by joyfully becoming man and wife?" Weese said, gently stroking her silk hair. Renee was silent for a moment, thinking of how best to respond to his proposal. She had nothing else to lose, she figured. Sherlock was gone and she knew that Watson would keep Diana safe from harm. She turned around in his arms, shaking her head.

"As I told you before, you shall never hold my heart and so long as I have breath in my lungs to refuse your hand, I will!" she shouted strongly, pushing back her agony. "Even in death, Sherlock Holmes will remain the only man I ever have and ever will give my heart to," she spat at him.

Weese growled, grabbing her arm and throwing her to the floor at his feet. He towered over her, irritated with how she had responded to him. He was going to have her as his wife and in his bed tonight, even if he had to force it upon her. "I don't want your heart, my dear, just your body," he snarled, pulling her up by her hair. "And I will have what I desire. Even if I must force you to become my wife and use the same force to receive my first night rights!" He pulled her out of the cage. "You have two days to prepare yourself for it. I want a decent wedding, one that you and I shall always cherish the memory of. Your beautiful body in a beautiful white gown, standing at the altar saying 'I do.'" He smirked, imagining. "However, if you fail to submit to my wishes, I will get what I want for the wedding and the consequence to follow will be more entertaining and enjoyable," he smirked, laughing as her face fell in fear.

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And we are back to the evil cliffies. :). Hit the lil green button if you desire to read more!


	13. Chapter 13

**AN: This chapter is probably the worst yet. I just had no real inspiration for it. So hopefully the following chapters will make up for that. R&R please. **

**Chapter 13:**

Anxious to escape the limitations of the hospital, Holmes left as early as he possible could the following morning. His arm was, to some extent, dislocated, but it didn't seem to truly bother the detective. His mind was set on one thing and one thing alone: Renee. However, the subject in his mind wandered. One moment, he would be completely focused on how it would be best to get her back, while the next he would be trying to truly decide his feelings for her. Shaking the thoughts from his head, he sat at his desk, scribbling down some notes from the encounter with Weese. The silence was welcome to Holmes, and he was grateful the doctor and Diana had gone off to gather more of the tea leaves for him. Slightly bored, the detective picked up the day's paper. After flipping to the second page, he saw the article addressing the murder of Sir Alexander Dartmouth. It was a shame that they hadn't been able to save the scientist. Holmes held him in the highest respect, even in death. He read deeper into the article, trying to figure out where he would turn to for a reference now that Dartmouth was fixing to be buried. His eyes skimmed across the ending line of the paragraph. 'The last living of the order is Sir Charles Nixon, who, in light of recent events, has begun to take necessary procedures to stay alive.' Quickly taking mental note of the name, Holmes began to make it out of the apartment. He already knew there was a large chance that he wouldn't be able to get anything out of Sir Nixon. This, however, was to be expected. From the very little he had learned from Dartmouth, the group of scientist had pushed Weese down into a corner that he couldn't rise up from. Their actions lead him to be the man that he was. Thus, it would be expected that he would be unwilling to help the detective with the case.

Slowly, Holmes made his way down the streets of London. From what he had gathered, Sir Nixon lived on the outskirts of the northern side of London. He continued walking, keeping to himself. He continued walking, keeping to himself. But suddenly found himself accosted a young woman. The woman gripped his forearm to bring his attention to her.

"Detective Holmes...we must speak!" she said urgently, frantically trying to pull him into a small shop. Holmes looked up at the sign above the door and a scowl formed on his brow. Madam Sharon's Crystal Ball was written in an elegant mystical script. She was a fortune teller.

"I apologize, madam, but I am rather rushed off my feet at this current moment. Please excuse me." He tried to get his arm loose, but she only held tighter to it. Pausing, he allowed her to respond before he made another attempt to continue towards his destination.

"You are trying to find Sir Nixon before he gets to him, no?" Holmes froze and stared down at the woman beside him. She looked extremely grave about something, yet there was a great urgency in her eyes."Please sir, please. I will only take a moment of your time," pulling him into her shop. Holmes looked around, sitting at the round table. He only hoped that this wasn't going to take too much of his time.

"And what is it you have to warn me of?" Holmes questioned, as she held out her hands from him to take a hold of. Taking them, Holmes slowly looked up into her eyes. It was only then that he realized the color of her eyes. Green. Lighter than Renee's, but it didn't stop his mind from imagining her face.

"You were going to see Sir Nixon, and I had it revealed that if you continued in the direction you were headed, you would arrive far too late. However, because you stopped, you will be able to change course and get a carriage to taking you the remaining distance. When you get there, he will first refuse you, but after mentioning the dark lord's hostage, he will help you. After you leave, return to Baker Street and tell no one of what Sir Nixon has told you. If you do, then the raven you have fallen for will, suffer more," she said, cutting herself off there.

Holmes caught the fact that there was more to tell then what she was revealing. It made him freeze for a moment, worried about what Weese could be doing to Renee. He already knew that Weese wouldn't tell her of his survival, but was unsure if that also meant she would think he was dead. If Weese hadn't said anything to her at all, she could be clinging to hope. But if he had, Holmes dreaded to think of what state Renee could be in.

"What has he done with Renee?" Holmes questioned, unable to fight the urge to do so. He needed to know if she was alright. The gypsy went quiet, removing her eyes from Holmes'. This didn't help to end his worry at all. "How is she?" he asked again. Once more, however, the gypsy met him with silence.

After a few moments of silence, she said, "To know would change your course and a change in your course will lead to something much worse for her. Please do not ask me to speak of it." Holmes merely nodded in response, standing up to leave. He left a handful of coins for the gypsy, quickly heading out to catch the next carriage.

Upon reaching Sir Nixon's home, Holmes was unsurprised to see the house looked vacant and locked up. He walked up to the white picket gate, working on picking the lock. After a few minutes of not being able to, he simply did what he knew Watson would, and kicked the gate in. Quietly, he continued to make his way up to the door. Heading the gypsy's words, he knocked lightly on the door. "Sir Nixon," he called out, knowing that the scientist would hear him. "I am Sherlock Holmes," he stated, waiting a moment for a reply. He was caught back when he actually received one.

"I know who you are, Mr. Holmes," said the voice, obviously coming from one of the second level rooms. "I am afraid, that I will not be able to assist you however. I refuse to end up like the late Sir Dartmouth," he replied, obviously petrified.

"I just need to ask you one simple question," Holmes insisted. "I need assistance. Sir Dartmouth was helping me retrieve Miss Renee Duncan from the hands of Christopher Weese." Silence followed his statement, until he heard footsteps coming towards the door. Odd as he found it, the gypsy had been right.

"Did you say Renee Duncan?" he asked as he opened the door, a pistol in his hand for precaution. Holmes merely nodded. Quickly, Sir Nixon opened the door, allowing Sherlock to step inside his home. Once Holmes was beyond the door way, the panicked scientist shut and locked it up once more. "It is a terrible shame Christopher has gotten his hands on her. I had hoped myself he was finished." Holmes nodded, it was not the first time he had heard this. However, this time he wanted to know more.

"From what Sir Dartmouth had told me, Mr. Weese had tried to take Renee's hand, correct?" He questioned, wondering what more there could be to the story. Nixon nodded. "In what manner, might I ask? Sir Dartmouth failed to tell me the specifics of that event."

Nixon let out a sigh, as if it was a painful memory for him to speak of. "It was shortly after one of our meetings. Gregory had just dismissed us all for the night. However, Alexander and I stayed behind. Christopher came in, a purpose clearly sketched over his face. When Gregory permitted him to speak, he said Renee was of marriage age, and that he was a man who could care for his daughter. Gregory refused at once. At first, Christopher tried to convince him, but Gregory was never one to change his mind. After swearing for his revenge and throwing some of Gregory's papers, Christopher left and was left without the job Gregory had given him. It wasn't for a least a week later when Gregory told all of us that Christopher was a threat to his family and our trade. However, only Dartmouth and myself knew that Christopher had stolen one of Gregory's old notebooks. If I remember correctly, it was one for medicine and other types of treatments." Holmes nodded.

"Which would add onto what he is using to make his revenge," Sherlock stated, more to himself than to Nixon. "Do you know where he would reside, if he had nowhere else to hide?" he inquired. Nixon nodded.

"Gregory designed a system of pumps that lead the water into the sewage and in turn created a line for it to run to back above into London. If Christopher wanted to make London suffer for pushing him down and marking him as a pauper, that is where he would be. The line is closest to the pier and river, just about a mile down. There is a small room with stairs that lead to an abandoned workhouse. He would be keeping there for the majority of his time," Nixon stated. Holmes stood up, quickly heading back towards the door.

"No harm will come to you, Mr. Nixon," Holmes stated, opening the door. "However I advise you leave your home and move elsewhere. If it came down to it, Christopher Weese knows this location and how to get in to kill the last of you, the last in his line," with that, Holmes walked out of the door, heading back towards Baker Street like he had been advised to.

* * *

Weese leaned against the table in the main room. Renee stood before him, slowly sliding off yet another wedding dress. He smiled. He already knew which one he wanted his bride to be to wear tomorrow, but he was enjoying this torture. Holding the next dress in his arms, he waited for her to strip out of the one she currently wore. Once the dress hit the floor, he moaned at the sight before him. Renee stood in nothing but her petticoat and bra, the majority of her skin and breast exposed to him. He bit the inside of his cheek to keep from groaning at her. Renee whimpered, reaching her hand out of the next dress. However, Weese grabbed her and pulled her tender body against his.

Running his finger down her middle felt brilliant. He shivered at the mere touch. If only he could have her completely bare under him. He kissed her neck, feeling her moan. Smirking, he slowly began pushing her away from him while she took the dress out of his hands.

Before she had a chance to step into it, Weese came up behind her, kneeling so his hands could touch her ankles. Renee trembled as his cold fingers wrapped themselves around her lower leg, stroking them gently. "Your luscious skin...seeing it like this, it just makes me shiver with anticipation for my rights, by prima nocta, as your lord in the Lord our God's eyes." Renee trembled once again at his words. Slowly, Weese gently began to drag his fingers up her body, dragging the dress along with him. Once the dress was on, he pulled Renee against him, resting his chin on her shoulder. Slowly, he turned her towards the mirror. The dress revealed her cleavage and was practically see through. She realized then that Weese had saved this one, the one she was going to have to wear, for last. His face had a sick smile on it, obviously pleased with himself. Renee whimpered as she felt his arms move up around her shoulders, so his fingers could stroke while he held her. "It is just a shame Sherlock Holmes will be unable to attend our wedding. I had wished to make him suffer for trying to steal you from me."

At the mention of the detective's name, Renee felt herself shatter into a million more pieces. She could not bring herself to accepting his death. Knowing well that Weese was already going to make her suffer, Renee decided to respond in whatever way she wanted to. "He may not have managed to steal my body from you, but my heart and soul was his from the moment I met him." Weese felt his face swell up in anger at the mention that Sherlock Holmes still held her heart and soul. Growling, he threw her to the ground.

"The heart and soul mean nothing if a man has not taken a woman's maidenhood. She doesn't belong to anyone but the man who takes that from her. And the man that takes it from you will never be Sherlock Holmes The man who takes that from you will be no one but me," he stated, leaving her on the ground as he left to attend to the remaining wedding details. Renee wept to herself, changing back into her dress for the day. She prayed to God for some type of miracle, even though she knew one would never come.

* * *

R&R? You know you want to hit that green button!


	14. Chapter 14

**AN: Well, I had hoped to have a few more reviews so we'd be farther into the 180's. *shrugs* Anyway, enjoy the update :). Read&Review! Also, I have a new Sherlock fic going, Cat And Mouse, and would appreciate it if you all read that one as well. I will be updating it and this one depending on which gets the better amount of reviews first. **

* * *

**Chapter 14:**

_Renee stood against Weese, his gun pointed at her temple as he sneered at the detective. Her green eyes locked with his black ones, praying that he could get her out of this situation without either one of them getting injured. She felt Weese throw her, only to be caught by a different pair of arms: Sherlock's. However, she couldn't figure out what Weese was going to do to the pair of them. She slowly buried her face into Holmes' chest when she felt him pull her out, putting her gentle body behind him. Weese had once again pointed the gun on the two of them, ready to end their happiness. Renee froze as she heard the gun release a bullet, hitting Holmes square in the chest. "SHERLOCK!" She screamed at the top of her lungs, tears fixing in her eyes. His body slumped down, and her arms slid under his, helping him before he fell to the ground. Weese laughed at her attempt as she was pulled down to the ground by the added weight of the detective. Sitting on the ground, she rocked the bleeding, pale, cold body of the sleuth she loved in her arms. _

"_All will be well, my love. Once he is gone, no one will stand in the way of our happiness," Weese chuckled, putting his gun away. Renee couldn't stop the tears from pouring out of her eyes at this point. Her lips gently brushed against the detective's, praying that he would make it through this. He couldn't leave her, especially not like this. Weese snarled as he watched Renee's lips plant themselves on Holmes'. As weak as the detective was, he was clearly returning it. Pulling out his gun, Weese aimed it on Renee this time. He refused to allow her to treat him in this manner. However, Holmes saw the gun out of the corner of his eye and pushed himself up to protect Renee once more. This time, the bullet ended his life. _

Renee woke up screaming after her nightmare. Holding her knees, she slowly began to calm herself, returning her breathing rate back to normal before she woke Weese up. Petrified, she could only hope that it was still night. Cautiously, she stood up, trying to peek through the small hole in the floorboard under her. A deep, eerie darkness met her view. It was still the night, or early morning, before the wedding. However, she knew there was no way out of it. Letting a tear slide down her cheek, she curled on her side, trying to fall into a more peaceful sleep. Renee wanted nothing more than to die and rejoin Sherlock at this point, but knew her death date was far from now. She was going to be Renee Anne Weese in a matter of hours, and eventually the mother of his children. Shuddering at the thought of Weese's body inside of hers, creating children nearly broke her. Even though she had always know that Sherlock would never reciprocate her feelings, she always had some hope that the man he was would change and that they would end up together. Looking up at the heavens she cried silently for him as she drifted into another sleep.

* * *

_It was the day of execution for Lord Henry Anderson. Holmes sat in the front row for the hanging, having nothing better to do for the day. Watson had agreed to be the residing doctor for the execution, which would have left him at home on his own. He, however, normally did not mind be alone with Gladstone for the day. Yet, for some reason his gut had convinced him to come out. After the lever had been pulled, he stood to walk out of the room. His eyes wondered the rows of people, wondering if he would find a familiar face. The detective smiled when his eyes found a pair of familiar deep, rich green eyes. He smiled at her, stopping in his step for a moment. She smiled back, making her eyes twinkle. Waiting for her to join her, Holmes couldn't shake the thought of how beautiful she looked. _

_Taking hold of Holmes' arm, the two started out of the room. Sherlock knew that he was going to see completely out of character, but he didn't care at that point. Her soft hand in his felt indescribable. Reluctantly, he let go of his hold slowly. Turning towards her he asked, "What brings you here?" She smiled in response, keeping her silence for a moment longer. "I don't see a hanging being a suiting place for a lady such as you. However, because it is you, I can easily deduce that you are up to something." Her smile grew, giving him a moment longer of her silence._

"_I came to see you," she replied, making him smirk. "Since we didn't have a proper goodbye after I aided you in the case." He nodded simply. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the doctor making his way out of the building. Taking her hand once more, he pulled her to the side, out of view from anyone else. _

"_That we did not," Holmes said in response. She nodded simply and the two stood in front of each other in complete silence. She chuckled after a few moments of the silence. Holmes couldn't help but to love the sound of her laugh. It was almost as her laugh could brighten anything. Looking over her onto the steps he could see that the doctor was looking for him. Sighing, he figured it best that he departed from her. "Well, this time I will give you a proper farewell," he said, gently picking up her hand in his and pressing his lips against her soft skin gently. His eyes connected with hers and saw the small blush sketch itself over his face. This only made him smile bigger. He had an effect on her and he liked it. _

"_Goodbye, Sherlock," she said, stepping away from him slowly. His smile widened as her angelic voice allowed his name to roll off of her tongue. His black eyes watched her go, waiting for her to get out of sight before he moved from his position. Once she was, he rejoined Watson before the pair headed home. _

It had been the last time Holmes had seen Renee since before the incident with Christopher Weese. Sitting up in his bed, he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, focusing on the task ahead of him for the day. He knew all too well that he could not tell Watson about what the fortune teller had said, at least not yet. His mind drifted over her words and the unspoken things he had picked up on. Weese had plans for him; he just did not know what they could be yet. Knowing that any move he made to stop anything the corrupt man had planned would end in suffering for Renee; he began to accept the fact that he was going to have to play the part of the puppet instead of the master. Sighing, he sat down in his chair, writing out a note for Watson. If he was going to be taken out of from the case, he needed to know that Watson could finish the rest of it without a problem. Setting the letter aside, he began to look over the tea leaves once more. Once he figured out what type of poison had been mixed in with them, the case would be completely wrapped up. All he would have left to do was getting Renee out of the hands of Weese and getting rid of him permanently. The thought dawned on him that he also needed to come to terms that Renee may have been the only woman to grab a tight hold over his heart. However, he pushed it out of his mind. Getting her back was more important for the time being.

* * *

Weese dragged Renee down to the main room in the warehouse. Everything was ready for their wedding. Standing her in front of him, his eyes swept over her body. After this, he could freely see her bare body at any time of his choosing. Biting the inside of his cheek couldn't keep the moan from escaping him for a change. A shudder of fear passed over Renee, not that Weese cared if she was frightened or not. The only thing that mattered to him was the fact that she would be bearing his surname. Smirking, he watched Bart take his place in front of them. He didn't care that they didn't have a priest do a more proper ceremony. Renee seemed even more frightened to see the taller, larger man enter the room. A low chuckle escaped him. There was no way that she would refuse him now.

Renee's green eyes looked over Weese's dressed up form. His hair was combed back, his suit properly cleaned and worn, making him look like a proper gentleman. However, she knew of his true nature and in result, knew that it was all just an act. One of his hands was inside his pocket, clearly holding onto the ring he would be placing onto her finger. She felt sicker to her stomach than she had during her entire residence with the twisted beast. Another tremble escaped her body, knowing she would be with him until death due them part. With one more glance at the heavens, Renee closed her eyes as Bart began speaking.

"Sir," Bart began, and Renee already knew that the majority of the traditional ceremony was going to be skipped over. "Do you take the beautiful, Renee Anne Duncan, to be your lawfully wedded wife? To have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for better and for worse, until death shall do you part?" Christopher smirked as he took a tight grip on Renee's left hand.

"I do," he smirked, feeling Renee's hand tremble in his as she had no choice but to say I do. And even if she didn't say the words, he would still place the ring upon her finger and carry her to his bedchambers. He turned back to Bart nodding, wanting the wedding to be done and over with. If it weren't for the vow he had made, he would have skipped over the wedding and claimed her as his. But his sneaky pet had pulled a trick on him, and he was going to make her pay for it. And in his mind, the best way to make her pay was by becoming his wife.

Bart turned towards Renee. "Do you, Renee Anne Duncan take Christopher Samuel Weese to be your husband?" Renee waited for a moment for Bart to continue, but it came apparent that he would not. Just before he went to answer, he added a bit more to the vow when Weese shot him a glare. "To obey and please, and do all that a husband requires out of a wife?" Weese's facial expression turned into one of a sick, cruel happiness at the added part of the vows. He saw Renee's face fall even more, and could easily assume that her stomach was in a knot.

"I do-" Renee started, before being cut off. Weese slid the finger onto her ring without allowing her to finish, knowing that he was all he needed in order to declare the marriage official. Renee froze as she saw the gold band with a several small diamonds on her left hand. Tears formed in the back of her eyes, but she used all of her might to keep them from falling.

"Good," Christopher said, kissing her hard and passionately. As soon as he broke off the kiss, he began to pull her out of the room. "Now to make this marriage official and true," he said, his eyes tracing her curves. "To claim your body as my property, that no man may ever look upon with want." He felt Renee thrashing, trying to get loose but didn't care. Knowing that he was stronger than her by far, he knew that he could use that strength to make sure he got her to his bed. Once there, he knew he could make her freeze and obey with the things that he had planned for her.

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Review? You know you want to!


	15. Chapter 15

AN: Well, I have changed my original idea for this chapter, so with the change, I am kind of winging this chapter. I think it turned out alright, but review so I know if you all agree. We crossed 200 Reviews! :D

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Chapter 15:

Holmes sat in his arm chair, waiting for Watson to awake that morning. It was the morning of Sir Dartmouth's funeral, and Watson had decided that he was going to escort Diana to it. As much as Holmes knew he should pay final respects to the man, he also knew that he had to progress with his case. He had spent the entire night running through his memory and had finally figured out where Weese was hiding. Sherlock knew he was going to need the assistance of his partner to keep from getting captured, but also knew that he was not completely sure how many men Weese had working for him. If he had Watson come along with him, then they both could be captured. With this in mind, Holmes made up his mind that he was going into the warehouse alone. Pulling out the letter he had started, the detective began to write additional notes and instructions for his companion. Once he figured that Watson would be able to follow them, he placed the letter back into a hiding spot until the doctor and Diana had left for the funeral. Leaning back in his chair he rubbed the sleep that remained in his eyes out, wondering how long it would take for the doctor to leave. There was a knock on the door, which he guessed to be Watson. "If you are wondering if I am going, Watson," he started slowly, picking his gun up and loading it, "the answer is no. Go on without me," he stated, not once moving to unlock the door. He heard Watson sigh before two different set of feet started down the stairs and out of the stairs.

Watching Watson and Diana disappear down the street, Holmes quietly waited to make sure that they would not see him when he walked out of the house. Quickly gathering everything he thought that he was going to need, the sleuth headed down the streets towards the docks. Keeping his hand on his revolver as he reached the warehouses, he quietly continued in his path. All he could hope for was that Renee was alright. If she was, he did not think that he would be able to control his temper. If any harm had come to Renee, he would forget that he wasn't a man to show emotion and avenge her. Shaking all thoughts out of his head once more, he continued to sneak into the warehouse he knew Weese was working in. Seeing some of his men head to a back room, Holmes quickly followed. Looking up at the boards above his head, he could see a few tiny holes. Knowing that he would be able to hide there, as well as listen in to the discussions that went on, Holmes sped up to find the room.

* * *

Inside Weese's bedchambers, Weese woke up, pulling his weight and body off the sleeping Renee. He smiled as he saw her angelic body covered in bruises and bites that he had caused. No man was ever going to lay hands on her again. Smirking, he clothed himself before sitting back on the bed, pulling the unconscious Renee onto his lap. He stroked her body lightly, applying pressure to the marks. His smirk only grew as he heard her whimper in pain as she began to stir in her sleep, waking up. "Good morning, my beautiful wife," he whispered, leaning down and kissing her red lips. He heard her moan, afraid to do anything but give him the reaction that he wanted. Laughing as he pulled away, he could feel her body trembling in his arms. "Time to get ready for the day, my pet," he added, pushing her gentle curls out of her face.

"Yes…yes sir," Renee whispered, afraid of the consequences if she tried to fight back. Tears swelled up in her eyes as her green eyes looked down at the bruises that covered the majority of her body. She felt him drop her back on the bed, before he walked out of the room, a cruel laugh escaping him. Renee stood up, wrapping one of the sheets around her body before she walked to the closet. As she opened the door, she saw the bruises around her wrists, reminders of how he held her arms above her head while he forced her down. Opening the door, she pulled out one of the dresses she knew would cover her more than the others. However, it was still revealing and, as hard as she tried, she couldn't hide the bite marks on her neck. She knew that his men would be proud of his accomplishment. At the thought, she was unable to keep her tears back any longer. After dressing herself, she went and sat down in the corner, holding her knees while she cried. The only thing that was keeping her moment was the dream she had had. Holmes was still alive and she was married to him, rather than the abuser she had been forced to give her hand to. If only it could be. If only.

* * *

Holmes listened in on the bets that the men made with each other, all concerning Renee and Weese. Trying to keep himself from growling and giving his position away, the detective bit his cheek. Just as he did, the dark lord strolled in, a smirk spread across his face. He heard one of the men start laughing, even though Weese had said nothing. Forcing himself to keep his silence and his temper, Holmes continued to watch in complete silence.

"I want my bed sheets washed of my wife's virginal status," he laughed out, sitting down at the table. Holmes couldn't keep back the low growl any longer. To his luck, no one heard it. "It was a wonderful night," Weese started saying, another chuckle escaping him. At this point, Holmes could no longer tolerate his temper from working. Sticking the tip of his gun out of the hole, he fired his gun at Weese. The sound of the bullet shook the entire room. Letting out a low growl of annoyance, Sherlock realized he had missed Weese's head, and merely had only chipped his ear. The detective saw Weese's eyes look up into the boards, Holmes tried to move quickly. However, the effect of the action caused one of the boards to break and fall to the ground, giving the men and Weese a complete look at Holmes. "Sherlock Holmes," Weese started a smirk upon his face. "You missed the wedding and the show," he laughed out. He only laughed harder as he saw the detective's face fill up with anger.

"I highly doubt that there was much to miss, Weese," Holmes retorted, reaming his gun at the man. Weese only chuckled at Holmes' attempts. "After all, all there was too it was you forcing the young women to marry you," he snarled, trying hard to fight any emotions. However, as Weese's lips tugged up into a smile, the detective found his attempt useless.

"You forgot about the part where I took her to my bed, Holmes," he laughed, watching the detective's face grow even sourer. "Oh, do try to stop fighting your emotions, Detective," he said, sitting back down in his chair. "I know you care about her. Or at least did. I highly doubt that you would be able to with all that I did to her last night. She properly belongs to no man but me." After Holmes did not reply for a moment, Weese gestured to his men. "Get him. I want him alive. I'm sure he would make a good victim to torture," he chuckled, turning back to the china before him, beginning to fill himself with the breakfast.

Holmes had sped off, trying to escape Weese's men while also looking for Renee. He knew that he could take them, or, at least he thought he could. If he could find Renee before they caught up with him, perhaps he would have a better chance at escaping. However, Holmes soon found that he was not as lucky as he would have hoped. Behind him, he could hear Weese's men, quickly gaining on him. Trying to give them the slip, he turned into one of the darker halls. Quietly, he started calling out. "Renee?" he whispered, trying to be loud enough that, if she was there, she could hear him.

* * *

Back in Weese's room, Renee began to wonder if suicide would be an option. Surely she could strangle or hang herself and escape this misery forever. Diana would be safe and happy with Watson; she knew completely that the doctor would take care of her older sister. Unsure of what to do, Renee allowed her mind to wonder with options. One thing was certain in her mind, however. She refused to continue playing her life out as Weese's arm ornament. Trying to push herself off of the ground, Renee found that she still did not have strength enough to stand. Once more, she grabbed her knees and curled into herself. More tears came out of her green eyes; her mind made up. Grabbing a tight hold on one of the post to the bed, she picked herself off of the ground. Picking up the sheet off of the floor, she made a noose. Tying it to one of the loose boards, her fingers slowly went to place it around her neck. Just before she jumped off of the bed, she heard a familiar voice whispering her name. Sitting on the bed, she figured that she had gone mad. Sherlock Holmes was dead. Her mind was torturing her once more, just as her husband had been. Quietly she began to cry once more, still unable to hold back her pain when it came to Holmes.

* * *

Sherlock found himself in a dead end. Knowing that he would be caught no matter what he did, he tried to run past the men that had found him. He managed to make it out of the hall, and all the way down to the bottom floor of the warehouse. There, he found himself with a gun to his chest, Weese behind it, smirking. "You didn't think I would let you escape, did you?" He chuckled, grinning larger as his men filled the room. Seeing Holmes' hand in his pocket, Weese said, "Drop the revolver, detective. Your fight is of no use. And if you refuse, I will make your heart, my _wife_, pay for it," he let out another chuckle, watching Holmes cringe at the emphasis on the fact that Renee was married to Weese. "Good." Turning towards his men, he added, "Prepare Mr. Holmes for a nice round of torture. I do believe I am going to enjoy myself."

Holmes quickly found himself bound and tied. Normally, he would have fought back, but he refused to allow harm to come to Renee. Remembering what the gypsy had said, he knew all too well that he had to be obedient and not fight back at Weese's orders. Snarling at the cruel bit of joy that was clear upon Weese's face, Holmes found himself being pulled out of the room, up some stairs, and thrown into a cage. Sitting down patiently, he waited for Weese to begin.

* * *

Slowly, Renee fell back unconscious. Her hands were still around her knees, her body curled up in a small ball. Tears stains were upon her face due to the fact that she had not wiped them. All she could hope was that she could have a peaceful slumber. However, this was not to be as her mind could not, and as it would appear, stop dreaming about Sherlock Holmes.

* * *

Watson returned home with Diana to find that Holmes was not there. Surprised at the fact, Watson also knew that the detective would have left a note, explaining his absense. Finding one on his bed, Watson quickly skimmed over it. Once the material had sunk into his head, he dropped the letter to the ground. This was a new level of stupidity, especially since it was coming from the detective. Diana watched as Watson's face fell with shock. Reading over it, she too found herself in a shock like state. Even with the instructions the sleuth had left, what where they going to do without him?

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Review? Diana/Watson next chapter I promise!


	16. Chapter 16

**AN: Well, I kind of felt that Watson and Holmes were OOC in this chapter, but I feel accomplished with it as well. So I hope you all enjoy it. R&R! 215 :D**

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Chapter 16:

Rubbing his temple, Watson let out an annoyed sigh. How did Holmes believe that this was the best idea? As clear as the instructions were, he knew he needed Holmes. They were partners for a reason. Sighing once more, he replaced his hat on his head. "We need to bring Lestrade into this case," Watson told Diana, preparing to walk out of the room. Grabbing his hand lightly, Diana made him stop walking. The fear and doubt that had started to swell over his senses seemed to fade away as her gentle fingers wrapped over his hand. Nodding to her, the doctor was able to recollect his soldier state of mind. Pulling her along, the two headed down on the path to Lestrade.

Tugging gently on his hand, Diana made him stop for a moment, she knew Watson needed to calm down and be level headed before going in after Holmes; else he wouldn't be able to do as instructed. Watson responded to the gentle tug by stopping, turning and facing her, he refused to meet her eyes. "Watson," she started, only to be ignored as he tried to continue in his journey.

"Come, we do not have much time to waste. If Holmes is right, and he always is, they already have him as a prisoner." Diana nodded, yet kept Watson from moving anywhere. The panic and uncertainty was sketched clearly over his face, anyone could have easily seen it.

"John," she sighed, using his first name unlike before. "You have to stop for a moment-" She watched as his eyes seemed to light up at the sound of her saying his name, rather than his surname. The panic that had been in his eyes seemed to have melted away as he stood tall, while taking a deep breath to remain calm.

Watson cut her off, about to say something when he felt her hand on his face stopping him. He knew he shouldn't enjoy it, but her cool touch was just what he needed at that moment. Wondering if she would take it any further, he slowly he put his hand on top of hers, stroking it beneath him, gently tugging it from his face so as they could interlock fingers. One he had, instinct told him to wrap his arm around her and pull her body closer to him. Not realizing he was actually doing so, Watson looked down and found that his lips had pressed themselves against hers. Knowing that now was not the time, he pulled away, pulling her out of the room without a single word to explain his actions. The kiss had reassured him that he could do this without Holmes, as well as feeling perfect. He could only hope at that point that it would get to happen again.

Hiding a secret smile Diana began to walk off trailing him behind her, as much as she would have liked to continue, right now was for helping their family. However, on the walk to the Yard, she allowed her mind to ponder the kiss. She had never felt the love of a man before, and feeling Watson's lips against hers was indescribable. If it had been under better circumstances, she would have prayed that it had never ended. Hiding a blush, she allowed herself to imagine what it would be like if they ever did it again. Properly that time. She found her fingers gently stroking his hand as he kept her hand in his. Gently, she could feel his fingers stroking her palm as they reached the Yard. Quickly going in, the pair hoped that they would be able to get the help that they needed and leave to get Holmes without any wasted moments.

* * *

Christopher Weese took a cool sip of whiskey from his bottle, his lips tugging up into a smile as his men tied up the detective to a table. His heart beat with joy as his imagination began to set in play. He could, and would, do so much to the sleuth, and there was no one that could stop him. Slowly, he walked over towards a closet and pulled out several different mechanisms for usage. Once he saw that the detective was tied down, he sat down in a chair for a moment, not wanting to rush into things. Inviting his men to drink, he opened up another bottle of whiskey from himself. Holmes' glare could be felt by each of the men, but as they were too busy drinking to give their attention to him, the detective was ignored for what seemed like an hour.

Before walking over to Holmes, Weese turned to Bart. "Go and fetch Renee. But take some time bringing her in here. I do not wish to harm my wife by making her watch the violence that is about to unfold in this room," he said, smirking before he turned back towards the snarling Holmes. Hearing the laughter coming from his men Weese become aware of the fact that he was sober than the rest. Shrugging the fact off, he picked up a whip off the floor next to Holmes. A smirk started to spread across his face as he whipped the younger man across the chest. Ignoring the stinging pain that erupted from his chest, Sherlock merely spat at the older man. This in turn earned him another whip.

"Is that the best you have?" Sherlock asked, refusing to give into the pain. Weese growled at the resistance of screams that built up inside of the detective. He wanted a reaction, and the sleuth was going to give him one.

"I have merely begun, Mr. Holmes," Weese replied, a smile upon his face as he whipped the detective once more. When he saw that Holmes was not going to give into the urge to scream, he picked up the hot poker and placed it on his chest. Making small circles around on Sherlock's chest, he could see the detective biting on his tongue.

Holmes bit down on his tongue to keep from screaming. While he allowed Weese to torture him for Renee's sake, he wasn't going to give the older man any satisfaction. Ignoring the annoyance that was visible in Holmes' mind, he allowed himself to let his mind slip into thought. Allowing a smirk to grow on his face, he blocked out anything Weese did to him. That was, until the dark scientist spoke once more.

Weese stood over the detective, smirk firmly in place as he continued to torture the man. "The pleasure last night was deeply satisfying to relieve your heart of her maidenhood." Untying the detective, he allowed Sherlock Holmes to push himself off of the table, standing up in the cage. Throwing a punch to the detective's gut, he watched as Holmes sunk to the ground, not fighting back.

Every instinct in Holmes' mind told him to fight back and escape, but the words on the gypsy stung sharply in his mind. The fact that Bart was still not back with Renee also worried him. The question of what the drunken assistant could be doing to harm Renee stung through his mind. Part of him wanted to run and find her; however, he was out numbered. Logic played in, knowing that he would be caught and Weese would make Renee suffer worse. Throwing the urge out of his mind, he let the dark man continue throwing blows at him.

The older man increased the pain, making sure every slash of the whip broke a new line into his skin. "Her soft, warm body as she moaned with every touch," he slowly lowered his mouth to his victim's ear, whispering. While he spoke the twisted scientist was savoring every blow both physical and psychological to the man who held his wife's heart. "My beautiful pet Renee." He saw Holmes begin to grow a growl in his chest, hate filling his midnight eyes.

"She is nothing of yours, merely the unfortunate victim forced into marriage to you and using that same force, the taking of to your bed–" A sharp pain in his chest kept him from saying anything else as Weese began to speak over him.

Weese cut Sherlock off before he could finish his sentence, beating him harder as he drove into deeper detail. "She met every thrust, every drive for more," he laughed. There was no doubt in his mind that he was enjoying the psychological torture more than the physical, although that in itself was entertainment to the despicable man. "Renee Weese."

Biting his cheek to retain a growl that still escaped Sherlock almost screamed as the attack intensified upon his person. Silence ensued for a while that felt an age to the tortured detective, silence broken only by the heavy breathing of Weese as he threw all his effort into hurting the man that stood, and always would stand, in the way of himself and Renee. Sherlock tried his hardest to not give any screams but couldn't help it as Weese poured hot oil into his wounds at his shoulder blade. Smirking at finally breaking the resistance of the younger man, Weese stood up, leaving Holmes on the floor of the cage.

"Renee Weese," he repeated, letting the smirk shine through his words, "Her young, tight, body underneath mine where it belongs." He paused to hear the low growl Sherlock was hissing through pain. "Available any time for me to use, to see, to touch, to mark, to bite, to tease," he let out a sick laugh as he watched the detective continue to fight with his emotions, futile attempts as they were they only encouraged Weese more.

"Renee Duncan is her name," Sherlock coughed, blood exiting his body. As soon as the comment left his mouth he regretted it. Not only was he about to pay for it, he was more concerned that the sick scientist would make Renee pay also. Looking up he could see the frustration in Weese's eyes as he began to attack the sleuth once more.

* * *

Renee had been lying in bed when she heard the door knob begin to rattle. She froze, afraid it was her husband. "Renee!" she heard a voice scream, still rattling the door knob. "Open this door!" The voice did not belong to Weese. Her body trembled with fear, afraid to find out what Bartholomew wanted from her. Perhaps Weese had decided to torture her by giving his right hand permission to violate her body as well. Her body continued to tremble in fear. She had picked up on his somewhat slurred speech. The door slowly began to be broke down, piece by piece. After a few seconds, Renee ran and opened the door for Bart, who grabbed her tightly against him the moment she had.

"Let go of me," she begged, stating it quieter than a mouse. She felt Bart's hands begin to roam over her body, ignoring her please. Smirking, realization dawned on the man as to why Weese found Renee's body a pleasure. Continuing to feel her up, he pressed his lips against hers. Squirming, Renee was able to pull out of his vice grasp. Slapping him as she breathed heavily, her heart began to swell up in fear. "That is no way to treat a lady," she spat at him.

Bart grabbed a fist full of Renee's hair, throwing her to the ground. Climbing on top of her, he replied, "You are no lady." Punching her hard in the face several times, he began to get whimpers out of Renee. Alternating between beating, kissing, and feeling up, Bart moaned in pleasure. Tears swelled in Renee's eyes. Weese's right hand was enjoying her just as much as her husband had the night before. The thought came into her mind that she was nothing more than a whore now, as Bart continued with her fragile body.

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Review? Holmes/Renee fluff next chapter..maybe..if I'm not evil and don't leave the two of them at another cliff hanger. Tehehe..Only way you'll find out is to review.


	17. Chapter 17

**AN: **Writing this chapter, the thought has dawned on me. There isn't much left to this story. Nonetheless, read, review and enjoy.

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Chapter 17:

After adding a few, fresh bruises to Renee's broken body, Bartholomew dragged her back down to where he had left Christopher and the detective. Her body was bent in half from pain, while blood eased out of her arm from where he had cut her. Snickering, he placed her into a chair, waiting on his cue to bring her into the room.

* * *

Weese growled, more anger targeted at the younger man than before. He had grown tired of the detective's spirit. How dare he think to call Renee by her former surname. Snarling harder at the sleuth's smirked, Weese booted him in the head. Snickering as the blood began to stream slowly out of Holmes' temple, Weese sat down on the table. "She is my wife!" he roared at the detective. This in turn only earned him a chuckle from the injured detective.

"A marriage must be between a man and a woman," Holmes started knowing that what he was about to say would completely get to Weese. "Not between a woman and a beat," he chuckled as he saw Weese's face swell up in anger.

"And yet you still deny you love her," he snickered, kicking over the pile of hot coals onto Holmes' lap. A grunt came out of the detective, who was trying to hide the pain he felt from the burns. Pushing himself off of the ground, Holmes stood in front of Weese. He appeared to be strong and ready to fight back. Yet, paying close attention, Weese could the detective's body trembling from the damage that occurred. "If you saw her pretty face and body now, even you would turn away in disgust," he added, certain.

"The feelings I would ever, and will always, have for Renee would not be about her physical beauty, but the beautiful, amazing person that resides inside of her. All you see may be her body, however I see infinitely more than you could ever dream," Holmes spat, getting a grip on his trembling. He saw Weese rolls his eyes, clearly in doubt.

"I doubt that, detective. To be honest, I do not see why you are wasting your time, Holmes. No man will ever want her now. She is damaged goods. I have told you that I took her to my bed and made her behave like a good little wife," he said, a smirk easing its way over his face. Holmes glared in response.

"So long as she stays the person she has always been men will always want her. If she can move on from this violent incident with you and let another man care and love her she will be a stronger person and any man who cared for her before, well his feelings would be strengthened. He would not see her as damaged." Holmes retorted a smile on his face as he saw the confidence in Weese shatter. He was growing tired of having the same conversation with the older man.

"Well, we shall just have to see about that, won't we Mr. Holmes? Let's see if you feel the same way after your left alone with her broken soul." After he had finished that sentence, Bartholomew came into the room, an unconscious Renee half bent in his arms. Holmes could see bruises on her face, and knew all too well that there would be others. "Bart, give our friend Mr. Holmes my wife for now. I want to prove a point to him," he finished, walking out of the room. Bartholomew opened the door, throwing Renee into the arms of the detective.

Holmes caught Renee in his arms, sitting down on the ground and gently holding her. He brushed away a few stray hairs from her face, showing only more bruises. He gently repositioned her, as he felt her begin to wake up. Renee moaned, feeling someone gently stroke her cheeks. She froze with fear, afraid that it would be her abusive husband. Slowly, she looked up into the person's eyes, but who she saw wasn't Weese. It was Holmes. Sighing, she realized she must be dreaming, as he was gone forever. However, she didn't care. Grabbing a fistful of his shirt, she buried herself inside of him. "I never want to wake up from this dream, let me just stay with you forever," begged Renee. Holmes froze. She thought that he was a figment of her imagination.

* * *

Weese had walked back down into the sewers. Renee's plan for the machine had failed him and he had been working on trying to figure it out for himself for the past two and a half weeks. Laughing, he figured that it had finally been fixed. Knowing he would get greater pleasure out of it if he had Holmes and Renee in the room when he took power over London, he slowly started up towards the cage once more. Finally, he would be the man with all of the power, while the city that had once stepped on him cowered in fear. The city that was at loss without their famous hero, who was too busy trying to fight his emotions. The mere thought made him laugh, triumphant. His face shined, obviously proud of his success. Or at least he believed it was going to be a success.

* * *

"Renee," he started, allowing her to cling to him, "I am no dream. I am really here." He felt her shake her head against his chest. "He didn't win. I never died like he told you," he restated, only to be met with the same response as before.

"Holmes," she whispered, obviously petrified. "Just let me stay locked in this dream," she finished, slowly letting the part of his shirt she held in her hand go. Gently, he helped her stand up; supporting her when he saw that she could not stand alone.

"I am no dream. I will prove it to you," Holmes said, sticking out his arm in front of her. He slowly dragged his nail across it, making a small scratch appear. The moment the blood started to slowly come out of Holmes' arm, Renee knew that she wasn't dreaming. He was still alive. She wanted to run back into his arms, but with what Weese had done, she couldn't bring herself to. She turned away from him, leaving her back to his face. "Renee," Holmes started slowly, gently placing a hand on her shoulder.

Renee tried to move away from him, put Holmes just kept replacing his hand on her shoulder. "You don't need to be touching garbage, Mr. Holmes," she whispered, trying to fight the tears that threatened to fall out of her eyes. Unseen to Renee, Holmes merely shook his head, wanting nothing more to hold her protectively in his arms. However, he fought the urge for a few more moments.

"You are not filth, Renee. Far from it actually. Simply the victim of a hate crime that you did not deserve happening to you," he paused for a moment, debating telling her what was really going on in his head at that moment. He decided that he needed to, unsure if she would believe him without it. "I am not known as a man of feeling. I find it hard to express emotions. But as I lay in my bed at the hospital I dreamt of you. And I realized something in that dream. Renee, I realized that I, um, I have feelings towards you. And for you. What I'm trying to say is...ReneeIloveyou!" he forced out, not realizing it until it was too late that the later part of his sentence had been said as if it was one word.

"What?" asked Renee not understanding what he had just said.

"Renee," he whispered, drawing her small, fragile body into his. Her eyes moved to reach his as he pressed his lips against hers. His hands fell from her shoulders down to her waist, holding her there while he kissed her. He remembered what she had been going through and let his arms fall back down to her sides, allowing her to pull out of the kiss if she pleased. However, she didn't. Her hands slowly found their way to his neck, slowly moving around to the back. Holmes moaned as she deepened the kiss. Never had he thought he would want a woman's touch more than that moment with Renee. He opened his mouth, allowing for her to slide her tongue into his mouth. Their tongues' danced, increasing the passion. Holmes' hands found their way to her hair, and he ran his fingers through it, wanting to get the full feeling of her. Neither noticed the dark pair of eyes that were fixed on them while they embraced.

After Renee pulled out of the kiss, she buried her face in the detective's chest. Slowly wrapping her arms around his waist, she inhaled his scent, convincing herself what had just happened wasn't a dream. She felt Holmes wrap his arm around her waist while his other hand reached up and held the back of her head gently, kissing the top of her head while he held her. "It isn't a dream," she gasped out, clinging to Holmes. "You're really here. You're really alive!"

Holmes simply nodded in response as Renee's arms slowly made their way to resting on his chest while her hands took a fistful of his shirt. "I would never leave," he whispered into her hair, "especially not when you're in danger." Renee took in another deep inhale of his scent, moving deeper into his strong body.

"Danger?" she laughed, "The danger has already happened," she replied, taking a deep breath."I am his now," she whispered showing Holmes the wedding band. Holmes took note of the broken look in Renee's eyes as she showed him the gold wedding band. He took her hand into his own.

Holmes shook his head, sliding it off of her finger. "A vow made under duress is no vow at all," he replied, kissing her finger gentle. He dropped her hand gently to her side, reopening his arms to her. All but willingly, she stepped back into them.

She whimpered, burring her face in him once more. "But…but he took me to bed," she whispered, obviously petrified to remember the violent event. Tears swelled up in her eyes as memories of Weese's cruel torture filled her mind. If she was left to her thoughts, she could still feel everything the cruel man had put her through.

Sherlock shook his head, opening his mouth to speak when a new voice entered the room. "I suggest you remove your hands off my property, Holmes, and replace the ring on her hand. Removing the ring will not stop her from being mine!" Holmes didn't move, his face hardening as he placed Renee behind him. She clung to his arm, burring her face into his back, not wanting to look at Weese. Growling, Weese said, "Now, I shall have to make both of you pay for this," Weese smirked as he opened the cage and pulled Renee out of Holmes' reach. "Starting with a longer, harder night in bed with me, your _husband_," Weese snarled into Renee's ear, before throwing her to the ground so he could slam the cage door shut.

Holmes reached his arm through the bar of the cage, grabbing Weese towards him. Weese chuckled at the anger he saw in the younger man's dark eyes. "I wouldn't do that if I were you, Weese. In a matter of moments, this place could be filled with the Scotland Yard," he snarled, before letting go of Weese. Weese only let out a twisted laugh.

"You still believe there is a chance I can be stopped?" he chuckled harder, stepping slowly towards Renee. "As you lie here Holmes consider how useless you have been in saving her from me. Let it linger in your conscience that that she will get worse treatment because of you," he sneered, before grabbing Renee and heading out of the room. As soon as Weese was out of sight, Holmes looked in his hand. The key. He smiled to himself as he quickly unlocked the cage door and bolted up the stairs after Weese and Renee. When he got to the hall Weese had disappeared in, he heard screaming coming from one of the doors. Quickly, he raced down to it, hoping that it wasn't too late to save Renee from another violent attack.

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Awwh...told you there would be Holmes/Renee fluff. Next Chapter will focus more on Lestrade and the Scotland Yard getting involved.


	18. Chapter 18

**AN: **I have to apologize if Lestrade is OOC. I was not looking forward to writing his character for this chapter whatsoever. However, I hope you all still enjoy it. R&R. Let's try to cross 250 with this chapter :)

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Chapter 18:

Lestrade sat in his chair, unoccupied and looking rather tired. There was not much going on around the Yard, which provided him with nothing to do besides paper work. However, before he could get a good enough start with his work, the door flung open, Doctor Watson rushing inside. Blinking at the fact that Sherlock was nowhere to be seen, Lestrade stood, wondering what could possibly have the doctor so worked up. Behind him he could see the young blonde that had been at the hospital with them, sitting down in the hall way waiting for Watson. Looking back at the out of breathe doctor, Lestrade wasted no time to jumping into the scene. "Where is Mr. Holmes?" he questioned. Watson stood up tall, recollecting himself to the best of his abilities.

"Holmes has been captured. We had been working on a new case-" Watson started, only to be cut off by Lestrade. HE knew that the inspector was not going to enjoy, or take lightly, to the fact that they had failed to inform him of a case. However, the doctor also knew that it was not the time or place to have that argument, even if Lestrade would say otherwise.

"Why didn't you two inform us of this earlier?" Lestrade demanded, annoyed. He was, after all, the man in charge of the police force. Watson rolled his eyes once more, annoyed. "He is under my orders," Lestrade added, giving Watson no time to interrupt. Standing tall, Watson gave the inspector a glare, which somehow managed to hush him up. Only, it was not to last. The moment Watson opened his mouth to speak; Lestrade beat him to allowing words out of his mouth. "It's my-"

Cutting him off before Lestrade had anything else to say, Watson cut in, "We can discuss this later, Lestrade," he said simply, not wanting to waste an unnecessary time. "I know where he is," he added, pulling the note out of his pocket. Handing it to the inspector, he took a semi step backwards. Lestrade read over it, obviously appalled at the information it contained. Watson, however, overlooked the confused and astonished look of the inspector, ready to spring into action.

"Mr. Holmes had no right to take this case alone!" Lestrade said, obviously still annoyed. Watson rolled his eyes once more. He couldn't bring himself to understand as to why the inspector thought he had a right to know everything the duo did. "Clarke!" Lestrade called out. Watson let out a sigh of appreciation. They were moving ahead with this- at last. Clarke stepped into the room, followed by Diana.

"Yes sir?" Clarke asked, taking a spot next to Watson. Diana stood on his other side, a look of anxiety sketched over her face. John had warned her that it may take time to get the Yard working with the case, but she had hoped it wouldn't be too much of a wait. Her mind was on her sister and how much she hoped that the detective was with her.

"Get everyone ready," he replied, picking up a gun of his own. "We have work to be done," he finished, nodding a dismissal to Clarke. Without wasting anytime, the policeman stepped out of the room, getting the other available men ready for action. After placing his hat onto his head, Lestrade aimed to step out of his room. Watson and Diana were a step in head of him, ready to lead the Yarders to the warehouse. The only hope that could play out in the detective's mind was one that wished they would not be too late. He knew his friend all too well. If he saw an opportunity to exchange banter with Weese, he would take it without a second thought. Retaking hold of Diana's hand, he stopped in front of Baker Street.

Turning to Diana, he said, "Stay here. We will go get Holmes and Renee," he stated, earning himself a roll of blue eyes from Diana. Going to open the door for her, he found a hand already on the handle, keeping it closed. "Diana?" he asked, trying to figure out why she wouldn't let him open the door for her.

"You are right, John. We will go get Mr. Holmes and my sister. Together," she added, strongly. Watson shook his head, and could see Lestrade shaking his own as well. "I am going with you. That monster has my sister!" she stated, annoyed that the doctor wouldn't accept the fact that she refused to remain behind.

"You need to stay here and let us handle it, ma'am," Lestrade said, wanting to move passed the disagreement and onto the job at hand. Both Watson and Diana seemed to ignore him, as the doctor continued in his attempt to open the door for Diana. "Watson," Lestrade started, seeing that he was being ignored.

"Diana, stay here. We already have two captured, we don't need anyone else. The job is already hard enough without willingly putting you in danger," he stated, finally able to open the door, despite the hold that Diana still had on it. Annoyed, she stepped inside. Watson smiled at her, glad that she had. "I will bring your sister back to you, I promise," Watson replied, kissing her gently on the forehead before shutting the door once more. He knew that Mrs. Hudson would be able to care for her until they returned.

Continuing on their pathway to the warehouse, Watson led the Yarders. Lestrade kept attempting to take the lead, which ended up as a failure when he found that he had no idea as to where they were going. Deciding to stay at Watson's right, he acted as if he was still in charge. Ignoring this and only focusing on the case, Watson was completely in his soldier posture, ready to fight to the end. He knew that the moment they had freed Holmes that they would be able to hold a higher card above the culprit. But until that moment, they needed a little bit of luck to play on their side.

Unknown to Watson or any of the other Yarders, Diana had snuck out of the house once they were out of sight. Keeping a safe, unseen distance behind them, she continued on her way. She didn't care how much danger there was going to be. She didn't care if it was a lady's place or not. She was going with them to save her sister, no matter what. After all, she had been through far worse. All that matter was getting Renee back. And there was no way she was going to sit back and wait in a chair at home, worry in her heart. No, she was going to be in the action, making sure things were running smoothly. Plus, if she got a chance, she wanted a whack at the man who had stolen her sister away from her in the first place. Picking her speed up slightly as they reached the wharf, she knew that she would be seeing her younger sister in a matter of moments, if they were lucky. However, she lost track of her sight and ended up walking straight into Clarke. Watson heard Clarke stumble and turned around to see what had happened. Groaning, he saw Diana.

"I thought I told you to stay at Baker Street," he whispered, just loud enough for her to hear. Diana nodded, coming closer to John's side. "Stay here," he ordered. Shaking her head, Diana followed. Not wanting to waste any time, Watson handed her Holmes' spare revolver. "Keep this in your hand and keep it ready," he ordered. She nodded. And here began step one. Getting inside without getting caught.

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Well, review?


	19. Chapter 19

**AN: **Read, review, and enjoy. Again, not one of my favorite chapters ever and it's kind of short. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy it because there's not much left to the story, but I have another Sherlock Holmes fic running at the moment, so I shall be working on that once this is finished!

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Chapter 19:

Getting in was harder than Watson had anticipated. Annoyed at the continuous pauses he and the Yarders had to take, he began to wonder if splitting up was a good idea or not. Their group was rather large and trying to move was creating too much noise. However, they had only a small idea as to where to go. Deciding that staying together was a better idea, Watson thought he heard an excess amount of footsteps following them. Groaning, even more annoyed than before, they stopped to listen once more. Once again, there was nothing but silence that greeted them. Turning to Lestrade, Watson started to speak, "Holmes' letter said that they would be on the side nearest to the water front. Which is on the far side of the room," he finished.

"And how do you expect to do that without getting caught?" A new voice said, cutting off the inspector from speaking at that point. Watson froze for a moment before turning around, knowing the owner of the voice. Turning around he saw the smirking Bartholomew standing behind them, a couple other of Weese's men behind them. Pointing his gun directly at Diana, Bartholomew smirked. "Mr. Holmes is not leaving this place. Last I checked, Weese was enjoying the torture he was inflicting on him. None of you are leaving either," he chuckled, as the Yarders and Watson began a shoot out with the dark scientist's followers. Pushing Diana behind him, Watson shot at Bartholomew, while dodging the bullets that were shot at him. One of the bullets that were shot at Watson hit the tip of the gun, causing it to blow out of his hand. Diana could see the smirk that was sketched over the dark man's face as he fixed his gun at Watson. Quickly pulling out Holmes' spare revolver, she shot at his chest before he could shoot Watson.

After a minutes of gun fire, the Yarders were down two men, whilst Weese's henchmen were all either injured or dead. Knowing that there was no way that the dark scientist, Holmes, and Renee would have been able to miss the gun shots, Watson hoped it would only be a few more moments until they would be able to detect the location of the other three. However, the sound that he heard did not help convince him that the hardest point of the mission was over. The sound of clashing steel above them filled the air in the silence. Watson looked for stairs, knowing that he would be able to find Holmes if he followed the sound.

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Throwing Renee to the floor in their bedroom, Weese's boot connected with her side. Her fight having returned to her, however, Renee tried to push herself off of the ground. Kicking her again before she had the chance to get back up, "How dare you!" he shouted at her, pulling her up by her hair. "You belong to no one but me!" he screamed in her ear, slapping her hard against the face. Refusing to give him the satisfaction, Renee struggled against his vice grip, ignoring the pain that came from struggling while he still held her hair. Throwing her back to the ground, Renee slowly started to pick herself off of the floor.

"I told you I would only ever love him," she spat, still doubled over from the blows to her abdomen. Seeing red, Weese aimed to ram her into the wall. Before he reached her, Renee slid over to the side, allowing his head to make the connection with the wall. Not giving him a moment to stand up, Renee took off towards the door and down the hall, wanted to be back with Sherlock.

His back sat against the wall, Weese could only chuckle as he sat up. He was going to make Holmes pay for giving Renee back her fight. Hearing gun shots, he knew that the loyal dog for a doctor and the Yard had arrived at his warehouse, just as the detective had said they would. Snickering still, he knew there was a chance that he could still win. He, after all, still had the ace of the machine to play with before he would ever think about surrendering. Standing up, he remembered how Gregory and the other scientist had laughed at his suggestion. Now, he had finished the majority of them and he was about to take power of London. Laughing cruelly, he picked up two poles and walked out of the room, ready to fight the young detective until he gained the upper hand. And when that moment did come, he would use Renee to make Holmes come quietly to watch him take power. Knowing that Holmes was not risk her, he laughed harder. He would soon be in control, even if the sleuth had been able to fix everything he had beat out of Renee.

Sherlock was almost to the hallway he had been in while searching for Renee, when he heard something running towards him. Stopping for a moment, he picked up the rest of the run to her side when he saw her standing at the front of the hall. Holding her in his arms gently, he began to making the journey back to where he had entered from. "Watson and the Yard have arrived," he stated, keeping his hand in hers so that he could help her along. Renee just nodded, taking a tighter grip of his arm. Holmes looked at her. How would Watson or the rest of the public react to him showing emotions? The thought stuck with him as he felt Renee's gentle fingers stroking his skin. Did he care? The dream he had had while lying in the hospital quickly flashed over his mind. It was worth it. He wanted to have that happiness. And if it was having Renee by his side that took him to reach that, then he would accept the fact and move on. He was just about to let a smile sketch over his face when he heard a low laugh was heard behind them. Turning around, he saw Weese behind them, a smirk on his face, his gun pointed at Renee.

"I don't think so, Mr. Holmes," he started, laughing as Holmes subconsciously pushed Renee behind him. Snickering harder as he knew the detective had no means to protect himself, he knew he could easily finish them both right then and there. However, it would take the fun out of the game that he was playing. Dropping his gun, he threw Holmes one of the poles that were in his free hand. It rolled down to Holmes' feet, and the sleuth picked it up looking at Weese just as he dropped his gun. "A nice, even fight. Pretty fair, don't you agree, detective?" he asked, snickering at the fear that came across Renee's face. She knew that Holmes was good at fencing, but she also knew Weese wasn't that bad either.

The two locked in a fight, both fighting to gain the upper hand. Renee stood against the wall, debating running for the doctor. However, she knew that if she did go, Weese could gain a hold over Sherlock. Eyeing his gun on the floor, she slowly made her way towards it. Smiling brightly, Weese saw Renee move for it. Holmes, however, did not. Pushing Holmes down to the ground, just as Renee reached the gun, he dropped his pole, quickly moving to the spot. In a matter of seconds, his arm was restraining Renee's, whilst his free hand held the gun up to her temple. "Drop the weapon, detective." Without having to be told twice, Holmes dropped it to the ground. "Now, call out to the doctor and tell him to stay where he is or he'll shot the girl."

"Watson!" Holmes stated at the top of his lungs, hoping that the doctor didn't hear him. However, the look on Weese's face made him believe that the twisted man knew that the Yard and the doctor were closer than he thought they were. "Don't move Watson. Stay where you are at." He finished, unsure as to what to say to the doctor. Blinking tight, he could only hope that they had not been heard. Beginning to walk straight until he passed Holmes, Weese motioned for the detective to follow. Keeping the gun at her temple, the three headed down the pass that leads down to the entrance of the sewers.

"It is time for me to take power of this corrupt nation," he stated, continuing in his walk until they reached the main room. "And this is how I am going to do it," he stated, throwing Renee to the ground. Keeping the gun in his hand, pointed at her, he turned to Holmes for a moment. "If you even think about trying to move over to her, I will tear your heart out in front of your eyes," he laughed cruelly. Holmes' eyes looked from Renee, who was now standing against the line of pipes on the wall to the machine, his eyes followed her gaze. Something appeared off with it, he gathered, from the look in her eyes. He just couldn't figure out what. And judging from her lack of speech, he deducted that she couldn't either.

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Watson had heard Holmes scream to him. He also knew that his partner would not tell him not to act. Guessing that Weese had somehow threatened Renee, Watson waited for the moment to lead the Yard to the three. However, standing in the shadows of the dim room, he saw Weese moving down towards what he guessed to be the sewers, Renee in his arms with a gun pointed at her temple, Holmes following silently. Waiting for them to disappear before he followed, he tried to figure out what the sleuth was up to this time. Unable to, Watson over looked the fact and followed. They were one step closer to solving the case and saving Renee.

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Review?


	20. Chapter 20

**AN:** Hope you all enjoy this chapter.

Chapter 20:

Leading the Yarders down the tunnel that lead down to the sewers, Watson kept both ears open, listening for any sound that could help him find the correct direction. He paused for a moment, unable to hear anything. It was as if nothing was going on between the dark scientist and the detective, which Watson found bewildering. The Holmes he knew was not one to be quiet. Listening harder, he could make out a small whisper, but nothing more. He started off leading the Yarders to the left, thinking that this was the direction he had heard the whispering coming from. However, he found as he got further and further from the main entrance, the whisper that he had been able to hear had became quieter. Turning around on his heel, much to the annoyance of Lestrade, he led them the opposite way. This time, the voice grew stronger, giving Watson a confirmation that he was going in the right path. He was unable to make out of all the words, but he could make out the tone of caution in Holmes' voice. The warning that Holmes issued was met with a hard, cold, deep laugh, which Watson knew belonged to Weese. This time, however, when Weese spoke, Watson could make out the words that came out of his mouth. The stupidity of the scientist seemed to amaze the doctor. How he could be sure of his plan when Holmes was an obvious problem, he could not pretend to understand. Stopping the Yard quietly, he stood outside the door that held the three inside of it, waiting for the right moment to interrupt. Diana had come to his side, gun drawn. She was ready to end Weese's life before anyone else got the chance to, or decided to show him any mercy. This time, she was going to get her sister back, no mistakes. Waiting for Watson to give the lead in, she kept her finger on the trigger, breathing slowly. He nodded to the Yard, a finger on his lips, signaling them to remain quiet for just a moment longer. Diana, however, took this as her cue to release her trigger, leading the rescue.

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Weese smirked as he threw Renee onto the ground, keeping her in the corner of the room. Holmes stopped with his back to the door, his eyes running over the machine. Glancing down at Renee for a short moment, he could see that her eyes were running over it as well. However, the look in her eyes wasn't one of fear, like he had been expecting. It was simply a look of confusion, as if she could sense a problem with the functioning. Gazing back up, he ignored the monologue that Weese was rolling out of his mouth, trying to see if he could spot any problems in the engineering. After a few seconds, Holmes looked back over to Renee. He could spot nothing. However, that is when he saw that her eyes were locked on an object hovering above them. Following her gaze, he spotted the obvious problem. One of the pipes was going to burst. Assuming that Weese had figured reverse engineering the function would do nothing, would be the reason why he had not fixed it. "I would look over your plans, Weese," Holmes warned, his eyes staying fixed on the pipe.

Weese gave the detective a bewildered look. How could he suggest that he needed to look things over? Everything was in its place, ready to be used. He let out a low, cruel laugh, a smirk sketching over his cold face. Holmes looked down from the pipe to Weese, who only smirked wider when the two's eyes met. "There is nothing to look over Mr. Holmes. The moment I flip the switch, I will have complete control," he laughed harder as his eyes found what Renee and Sherlock had been looking at only moments before. "It is just a leak, detective," Weese stated, his hand gripping the handle of the switch. "Prepare for an evolution."

Before Weese was able to pull it down, the sound of a gun being fired filled the air. Spinning around, Holmes smiled as he saw Watson and Diana in the room, the Yarder's just outside of the door. Growling, Weese tried to pull the switch quickly. Renee however was quicker, having gotten off her place on the ground to push him away from the power control. Weese's reflexes were quicker than Renee had anticipated, and he grabbed her tightly around the throat. Holmes paused, his eyes glued on the purple coloring that was now coming out on Renee's face as the scientist choked her. "Let her go," Holmes stated, without much of a tone behind the words. If he had his revolver, he would have shot the scientist without a problem. Yet, because Weese was covering most of his body with Renee's now pale form, no one else would be able to make a clear enough shot.

"Let her go?" Weese asked a deep smirk having made its way onto his face. "Well, if you desire, detective," he finished with a laugh. Before Holmes had a chance to realize what Weese was about to do, it had been done. Renee's unconscious body had been thrown into the wall, her head making the connection. A small pool of blood began to flow out of her temple, the crimson staining her white face, her soft hair, and her clothing. Holmes' eyes were wide and glued on Renee. Weese chuckled as he saw the detective turn pale as more blood began to ooze out of her forehead. Yet, his laugh was cut short as another gunshot filled the air, hitting him square in the stomach. Watson put his gun away after shooting down the scientist, as Holmes quickly made his way over to Renee. Diana shot Weese once again, wanting to make sure there was no possible way that he would be able to return. Though he was dead, he had a mocking smile plastered across his face. The Yarder's worked on picking him up, dragging him out of the room, while Holmes reached Renee.

Picking her up gently in his arms, he ignored the blood that was making its way out of her temple and onto his clothing. His face was filled with worry, his heart racing. She was started to get colder and colder, as her body began to lose more and more blood. Diana was panicked, hurrying next to Holmes as they exited the room, hurrying to the world above the sewers. Once they were out, Watson managed to flag down a carriage for Holmes and Renee. "We'll meet you up there," Watson stated, staying with Diana. Holmes nodded, keeping Renee in his arms.

Once inside of the carriage, Holmes gently slid his shirt off, wrapping it around her head to help cease the bleeding. His fingers gently stroked her hair, trying to calm his nerves. She was going to be fine, he convinced himself. Yet, there was a part of him that was having trouble believing it. Taking a deep breath, he kissed her hair gently. "Stay with me," he whispered, keeping her in his arms protectively.


	21. Chapter 21

**AN: **We are so close to that 300 marker, I can almost taste it! Thank you for all of the reviews, from all of you that have stuck through this story the entire time, to those of you who picked up somewhere in the middle of it all. I thank you for all the wonderful reviews, and hope that you enjoy the updates that remain. I am debating a sequel at the moment, so we will have to see how I play out the next few chapters to decide that.

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Chapter 21:

Drumming his fingers on the chair, Holmes' eyes glued themselves onto Renee's pale form. At this point, doubts were beginning to fill in his mind. He should have made Watson go with Renee in his place. If he had done that, the doctor would have been able to begin looking over her wound. She would be able to have been looked at on the way to the hospital, instead of having to wait. And for all he knew, it could have made the difference between if she was going to live or die. Holmes shook his head. He couldn't even begin to image a life without her. He refused to. His eyes remained glued on Renee, glancing up only once at the doctor treating her head wound. Holmes wanted nothing more than for her beautiful green eyes to reopen, giving him one of the smiles that had helped her melt his heart. Taking her hand, his thumb began to make small circles on her gentle skin. It had only seemed to have become colder than when they had left the sewers. Not a good sign, he knew this all too well. Bringing her hand up to his mouth, he gently placed his lips onto her knuckles, kissing them gently. His eyes closed, not looking down at her place, closed eye face from another moment. The detective was not one for fear. But at the moment, fear was completely swelling up inside of his heart. Sitting back against the chair, he kept both of his hands around hers. He heard the door swing open, but he overlooked it. He only knew that it was Watson and Diana entering the room, but his attentions was too focused on Renee. His eyes flickered up once more, seeing that Watson was looking over Renee's injury now as well. An involuntary wince of pain escaped Holmes' body, a hiss following it. The torture that Weese had inflicted upon him was beginning to catch up on his body. Watson's eyes flickered off of Renee and to Holmes.

"Holmes?" he asked, seeing a shudder of pain escape Holmes' body. He moved from his place next to the other doctor to his comrade. Holmes shook his head, wanting the doctor to focus on Renee. But Watson did not move from the sleuth's side. Looking closer at his friend, he could see deep cuts into the detective's skin. Using a single finger, he pushed the collar of Holmes' shirt to the side, showing more cuts and bruises. "Come on Holmes," he stated, putting his arm under Holmes', trying to pull him out of the chair. Yet, he did not budge. Once again, Watson tried to move his partner so that he would be able to look him over. Sighing, Watson moved behind the chair, putting his other arm under Holmes'. Before he attempted to lift him up, he saw that the detective's hands had a tight grip on the chair, refusing to let go. "Holmes, you need to be looked over," the doctor said, trying to get Holmes to listen. His words were only met with a shake of the head. Groaning, Watson looked up at Diana.

"Please, Holmes," Diana all but begged, her eyes never leaving her sister's body. "Let Watson look over you," she finished, looking up at the detective. He was still frozen in his chair, his eyes glued on Renee's closed ones. She sighed, trembling. If Renee did wake up to an untreated, weak Holmes, she would end up going into a worse state than she was now. "Holmes, do it for Renee, if not for anyone else. Please," she asked again, watching as Holmes slowly began to get up. Watson helped Holmes into a different room, looking over the wounds that marked almost every inch of the detective's body.

His eyes open in awe at the depth of the wounds, Watson knew the only reason Holmes hadn't gotten checked out was because of Renee. Sighing, he pressed a cold wash cloth against the first cut. He heard a hiss escape his partner, but knew not to address it. He decided to address the case that they had just completed. "What was Weese attempting, before we cut in?" he asked, rewetting the rag before applying pressure to a different wound. Holmes responded yet again with a longer hiss of pain. Rolling his eyes at the detective, Watson removed the rag, placing it back in the bowel for a few moments longer. Holmes ignored the doctor's question for a moment, his eyes tracing the wounds that he had received from the torture session. A cough came out of his comrade, and Holmes made eye connection, knowing that his partner wanted the answer to the question.

"Simple. By reversing the function of the pipe system, he would have controlled the water supply. Thus, using this as his rise to power, he would be able to wash away the shame that he had received while he worked under Sir Duncan," Holmes explained, grabbing his shirt from the side of the bed and pulling it back over his head. "The tea leaves were tampered, having been soaked in velkyn ogglin, which made the coloring darker than normal leaves. This, however, only caused the body to go into a paralyzed state, which lead the victim unable to seek help. The poison, ricin, which claimed the lives of the unfortunate scientist, was injected into their bodies, causing them to suffer more. Weese chose a good deal of pain for them to experience under the velkyn ogglin, but intensified it in their final moments," the detective explained, slowly getting off of the bed. Watson nodded his head, following what had been explained to him. "Weese had taken Renee hostage to add to his enjoyment. Killing the scientist were only one of the successes that he wanted out of life. Having her was the other," he spat, almost sourly. However, he managed to hide the emotions that threatened to escape his body yet again.

Watson watched as Holmes limped out of the room, focused on getting back to Renee's side. A small smile came over the doctor's face, glad that the detective had finally found someone that he truly cared for. Even if he was refusing to show the rest of the world, Watson knew that he wasn't going to watch Renee go after she had awakened. Many times the detective had a girl with him, but it wasn't for more than a night of enjoyment. This time, he knew that the sleuth had allowed his emotions to get the better of him. And Watson approved, for once, of the detective's choice of a woman. Unlike others in the past, Renee had morals and would be able to keep the stubborn Holmes in a joyful bliss for duration longer than the other women. However, she was still in the unconscious state. Watson also knew that if she did not awake, Holmes would fall apart. Shaking the negative out of his mind, the doctor went to return his attentions to Renee, hoping that she would soon wake up.

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Review? I'd really like to get to or break 300 with this chap. :)


	22. Chapter 22

**AN: **Well, there is only one-two chapters left, depending on how long I can make the rest of the part of the hospital. Woohoo! We hit 301! I for one cannot believe that this story made it that far with reviews. Thank you all for the wonderful words of encouragement. I **WILL** be doing a sequel(Thank GingerLocks for convincing me to do so and helping me create an idea for it), and I wil reveal details for the sequel once Gambling Day is finished :).

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Chapter 22:

The hours seemed to drag on as Watson finished doing everything he could to help Renee survive. However, he did not think that it had been enough. Renee had been showing small breathes, but they had reduced to nothing. Diana had her head hanging down low, but he could hear the sobs she tried to hide. Holmes was rubbing his temple, as if he was trying to find a way to prepare himself for any news of her condition. There were tears that had formed in his eyes, but Watson knew all too well that the detective would never let them fall. Especially not while he and Diana were still inside the room. Another hour passed and Renee's state remained unchanged. The doctor sighed to himself, unsure how to deliver the news. The chances of her survival were practically gone, and he had decided that the detective and Diana had a right to know. The only problem was that he was unsure as to how he should state the painful news. He knew it would be hard to comfort Diana after the loss of her only blood family, but he was unsure how the sleuth was going to handle it. This was the first time he had ever seen his companion show emotions and knew that it would be unpredictable. Leaning against the table, he looked at the ground for a moment. He had to tell them, before a different doctor came in and did so. Taking in a deep breath, Watson prepared for the sharp words he was going to have to say. Glancing from Holmes to Diana, before looking back at Renee once more, he grew a grasp on his doctor stature, opening his mouth to allow the words out of his mouth. Just as he did, he saw Holmes look up from Renee's body to his brown eyes.

"Watson?" Diana asked, also seeing that his mouth was open, ready to allow the words to start flowing out of his mouth. She was not ready to hear anything in the negative, though she had a stronger feeling that it would be what came out of the doctor's mouth. Renee couldn't be gone, she tried to convince herself, but the time to do so had passed. Her mind had begun to accept the fact even though her heart would not. Glancing from the doctor to the sleuth, she knew that he could not bear the thought either. Trembling, she allowed her eyes to roam back to her younger sister's pale face. Tears filled her eyes, ready to fall the moment Watson said the words he had saved for them. "She's not going to pull through, is she?" Diana asked, barely more than a whisper.

Holmes' eyes connected with Watson as he saw the doctor reply with a simple shake of the head. The world seemed to crash down on top of the detective as the thought of living without Renee settled into his mind. Before anyone had the chance to speak, Watson and Holmes heard the door slam shut. Looking up to where Diana had been standing only moments before, they found her to no longer be in the room. Without saying anything, Watson started after her, leaving Holmes with Renee once more. Slowly, the sleuth managed to make himself stand, making his way to Renee's bed. Carefully, he picked up her fragile body, before sitting down on the bed and holding her in his arms. A single tear managed to force itself out of his eye. Stroking her hair, Holmes took a deep breath, trying to remain from doing anything drastic. "Wake up, please," was the simple words that escaped his lips and his fingers found her hair, stroking gently.

_A scream filled the air. Renee curled into the corner as Weese flashed his yellow teeth in a devilish smile. The whip was drawn in his hand, and he was cracking it to enhance her fear. Trembling, she let out yet another petrified scream as he walked closer to her. "Please no," she begged, holding her knees to her chest. He stopped for a moment, looking over her body. He was enjoying this hold on her. Tears formed in the back of her eyes, yet she managed to be able to push them back. However, he had seen the clear drops form in her eyes, and had wished that she would provide him with entertainment by crying. Raising the whip, he hit her hard across the back. The sting of pain didn't settle in until after the sound of the whip pulling back up into the air hit her ears. Unable to keep herself from screaming, a holler of pain filled the air once again. Weese laughed at the reaction, enjoying every moment of making her pay. He had hoped that she would use her talents and fix the machine for him, but she had not obliged. And now, she was going to pay for the mistake._

"_Now, now, Renee," he started, pointing the whip at her once more. "If you would just listen like I asked, there would be no need to punish you. However, you need to learn not to cross me," he laughed, hitting her across the back once more. "You need to learn your place in life. A woman is meant to be willing to any demand that a man makes," he stated, pulling back the whip and pulling her up by her hair. "Once you learn this, there will no longer be a need for me to teach you. When you learn this, you will be the perfect pet. The perfect wife," he stated before kissing her forcibly. Once he was done, he threw her head into the wall, continuing with the punishment he saw fit for her disobedience. _

The whisper reached through to Renee's mind. It was Holmes. She was no longer with the cruel monster Weese. She tried to find his eyes, needing the comfort that she found in them. But she could see nothing but a pitch black screen. A small sob broke into her mind next. A man's sob, she realized. And not just any man. Were her ears betraying her? The Holmes she knew would never allow himself to let show emotions, let alone cry. Yet, the tiny sob was followed by Holmes whispering her name. It was him, she realized. Trying harder to rid her view of the black screen, she tried to find her voice to speak. She had to wake up. She needed him. And from the sounds of it, he was in need of her. Surprise as it was in her mind, she didn't care. All that mattered was waking up to Sherlock.

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Outside, Watson had finally managed to catch up with Diana. He had found her sitting on the stairs leading up into the hospital, her back against the railing. Quietly, he made his way over next to her, wrapping his arm around her shoulders gently. Startled, Diana jumped and looked over to meet the brown eyes of John Watson. Without a second thought, she buried her face inside of his chest, tears pouring out of her eyes in a river. The doctor allowed her to cry, rocking her gently. He wish he knew the word to comfort her with, but none were coming to his mind. Remaining quiet, he stroked her hair, reassuring her that he was there for her. Allowing his mind to wonder, Watson began to ponder how Holmes was taking the news. However, he decided that he would return to his partner's side after Diana had gotten the first round of tears out of her system. Both needed him, but he could not be in two places at once. And his instincts were telling him to remain with Diana first. Kissing her hair gently, he started to wipe the tears with his thumb, ignoring the fact that his shirt was damp from the tears that were still flowing out of her diamond blue eyes.

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Forest green eyes met a pair of black ones. A smile began to slowly sketch its way over her face, as he leaned down and kissed her forehead gently, clinging to her body. He had never been clingy before, but in that moment he wanted nothing more than to keep her gentle body next to his, his eyes glued in hers, and their hands intertwined. And that was exactly what he did.

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Review? I hope Holmes wasn't too emotional or OOC.


	23. Chapter 23

**AN: **And with this, we have reached the final chapter of Gambling Day. Thank you for all the many reviews that I have recieved for this story. Never did I once even dream of getting this far. Each one helped me grow a passion to continue. I will be posting an author's note once I have finished putting in everything that I wish to include- from thanks, to sequel, "Judgement Day", information as well as a sneak peek. Anywho, enjoy the chapter and please review.

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Chapter 23:

Stroking her hair gently, the tears of pain and depression that had threatened to fall of his midnight black eyes were replaced by joyful ones. His eyes remained glued in the forest green, as if his life depended on keeping his eyes in hers. A small smile began to sketch across his face, as his fingers trailed down onto her forehead, still stroking the gentle, tan skin. The color was beginning to return, leaving behind the deep shade of pale white. This sent comfort to his mind, assuring the detective that Renee was not going to be leaving his side anytime soon. A matching smile grew onto her face slowly, as her strength began to slowly return to her. Much to her surprise, Holmes had remained with her the entire time. However, what surprised her even more was that fact that his eyes were filled with little, shiny droplets of water. Tears, her mind identified. The sleuth that she knew was not one to show emotions. Nonetheless, she tried to stop the trembling her body was involuntarily doing, as she reached her hand up to his cheek, resting it there. Her fingers softly wiped across his lower eye, keeping any of the tears from escaping his eyes. The smile of the detective grew as he felt Renee's loving hand place itself onto his cheekbone. A few moments later, his hand placed itself on top of hers, their eyes still glued to each others' line of vision. Unable to say anything, Holmes slowly removed her hand off of his cheek. Biting back a small moan as her fingers slid down his cheek to his neck, Sherlock gently kissed her hand, before he placed it back at her side, still refusing to let go of it. "Renee," he stated slowly, rolling each letter off of his tongue, savoring the feeling of her name.

Renee smiled brighter, her strength having almost completely returned back to her. "Sherlock," she replied, pushing herself up from the laying position as she sat up in his lap. Allowing the moan to escape as his name escaped her gentle lips, he assisted her in her attempt to sit up. Keeping both of his arms around her, Sherlock rested his chin on her head, which had found a comfortable spot on his chest. Both her arms slowly made their way around his body, needing comfort. Although in her mind, males had became a caution, she needed the strength that came from being wrapped inside of the detective. Her detective, her Sherlock Holmes; a blush began to fill her cheeks at the thought, as she buried her face into his chest to keep him from seeing it. Unbeknownst to Renee, the detective had already seen the pink color filling her cheeks. A grin filled his face, his eyes much brighter with life then they had been for years. Gently, his lips planted themselves on her hair line, lingering for a few moments, knowing that he would never allow anyone else to see the more passionate side that Renee had released inside of him. But, while it was only her with him in the room, he was going to allow some emotion to take control of him, and let his heart do the work instead of his mind. "You stayed," she whispered into his chest, still in wonder at the fact. Slowly, her head pulled out of his chest, and her eyes made the connection with his once more. He nodded, kissing her forehead gently.

"I was not going to leave you," he replied, his fingers running freely through her luscious raven locks. He made a vow to himself in that moment that he would never leave her. That no matter what happened in the future; standing side by side with her was where he belonged. To hell with his reputation, he figured. Moving more into his body, Renee felt as if nothing could harm her in the detective's arms. For the first time in almost a month and a half, she felt safe. And she was enjoying the feeling. No longer was she being held in the horrid nightmare, finally free of Weese's grasp forever more. Continuing to rock Renee, Holmes also felt better than he had in the time that the case had taken place. The entire time, his thoughts had drifted from positive to negative, unsure as to whether Renee would be alright in the end or not. He had received a closure of the negative, in an unimaginable perfect way. It wasn't until the door flung open that Holmes and Renee even realized that other people still existed in the world. Without a single though, Holmes sprung apart from her, much to Renee's surprise. Looking at the door, they soon saw a flash head towards Renee, engulfing her in loving arms.

Hugging her sister back, Renee began to assure Diana that she was alright. Deciding to give the two sisters space once more, Holmes began to walk towards the door, signaling Watson to follow him out of the room. The doctor did so willing, a smirk drawn on his face. He had seen the look of joy that still glowed around his companion. Although he was glad that Holmes was truly happy for a change, he also knew that it would be the perfect opportunity to get a few remarks of his own in for a change. When he began to speak, the words closed out of the detective's ears. Rolling his eyes, Watson could see that his partner appeared to be walking on air. Sitting down, he continued to watch as Holmes smile grew larger, obvious thoughts of Renee filling his mind. The emotionless detective had finally fallen into a deep state of true love. And much to Watson's surprise, it was someone with more to offer the detective than the last woman- Irene Adler- that the detective had began to grow feelings for. "Holmes," Watson stated, trying to get the attention of the distracted detective. This time, much to his surprise, the sleuth looked into the mud brown eyes of his companion. However, before Watson had any time to add onto his statement, Clarke rushed up to the pair of them.

"Clarke?" Holmes asked, wondering why the Yarder was out of his breath. Waiting a moment for him to catch his breath, the black eyes of the sleuth connected with a piece of parchment that was in a ball in the Yarder's hand. Pulling himself together, Clarke extended his hand to Holmes, handing him the piece of paper. With one glance at the writing of his name, Sherlock was able to identify who the letter had come from. While it was much to his surprise, he knew that it only meant that a new case was on the horizon. Strolling back into Renee's room, a smile still upon his face, he stated, "Ladies, we have a new case," he stated, smiling at the new members of the team.

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Review? And yes I know Clarke is Clarkie, but I'm going with no 'I'. Hope you enjoyed the final chap!


	24. Sneak Peek: Judgment Day

There are several people I would like to personally thank for the success of this story. Esmerleda Marie Smith Watson, CeeChelle Lisa Gisborne-Hardy, Mapeline Alycia Hood, PhoenixCrystal, House-of-Nickel, Voldy'sWorstNightmare, Cloudgirl9, and MIstroStrings. However, the two that I must thank for ensuring this story was completed are ammNIwriter and most of all, the wonderful, amazing person that is my newest FF PM buddy, Ginger Locks. Everyone else who reviewed, favorite, or story alerted, I would like to also thank you for the success of this story. Everything helped me to decide to continue on with this story.

For the sequel, which is almost completely planned out, I shall be trying to write the first chapter soon. However, I also have two other multi-chap fics, Cat and Mouse and Trials and Tribulations, as well as my for fun fic, Blast to the Past. So I will be trying to add a chapter to these as well before I try to post "Judgment Day."

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And finally, for the lovely sneak peek to the sequel.

The wind had slowly begun to blow, creating the only noise that entered the beloved study of Sherlock Holmes. Irene Adler waited at the window, watching the busy street flash with people passing by. However, none of these people passing by the house were the one her heart ached to see. His face had yet to come into view. Spinning around on her heel, she stood with her back against the window, allowing her midnight black locks to rise with the wind. For some reason, unknown to her, she knew that there was going to be a surprise coming with the arrival of the detective. One that she would never have been able to guess was coming in the air. Shrugging it off, she turned around to face the busy lane of Baker Street once again. The face that she had been seeking came into her view, a smile tugging up with her deep red colored lips, making her ivory skin sparkle. Sherlock Holmes. Her eyes, however, continued to follow his figure, spotting that his arm was extended behind him. His hand was intertwined with another, pulling the tan skinned figure alongside with him as he continued towards Baker Street. She began to ponder who the mysterious woman could be, still awaiting the trip the sleuth would make up the stairs and into his study. She heard the steps of the stairs creak, alerting her that they would soon be inside of the room. Closing the window as the wind continued to gush in, she heard the door swing open, followed by a young women's giggle. "Sherlock Holmes," Irene stated, keeping the same smile plastered on her face. Holmes stopped, staring at Irene for a moment, before stepping away from the woman he had pulled into the room.

An American, Renee registered at the sound of her accent. The appearance began to register in her mind afterwards. She was beautiful. Far fairer than any woman that she had seen around the dirty streets of London. And far more beautiful than the face Renee saw when she passed a mirror. Her mind failed to hear the words that Holmes exchanged with the foreign woman, but found herself amazed as the grand detective returned to her side once more. Wrapping his arms around her shoulders, Holmes smiled at the girl in front of us. "Renee," Holmes stated slowly, his voice strong as he began reaching for Renee's hand with his, "this is Irene. She will be joining us for the case," he finished, still staying in the position he had claimed. The detective was standing as if there was no other place he fit into completely other than her side. A sigh of relief threatened to escape Renee in her amazement. The world's greatest mind would over look beauty for something more common.

Well, that will conclude your 500 word sneak peek. I will be trying to post the first chapter as soon as I get a chance to do so.


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